


Well This Sucks

by mayelisa



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anxiety Attacks, Character Turned Into Vampire, Comedy of Errors, Drama, Drunkenness, Dubious Consent, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Romantic Comedy, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2018-09-15 21:20:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 40,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9257780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayelisa/pseuds/mayelisa
Summary: Over the past few hundred years, Victor Nikiforov has perfected the art of luring women (and the occasional man) into his arms for an evening of passion and blood lust.  But when he targets an unsuspecting college student, he quickly finds out that his antiquated techniques won't cut it in the modern world and he needs to rethink things.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Lately, I've been seeing tons of hilarious posts on tumblr about vampires vs. millennials and how the “tricks of the trade” they've developed over the years are failing and I couldn't resist writing this. I just loved the idea of Victor being stuck in a never-ending loop of failures when all he wants to do is seduce someone.
> 
> As I'm originally from the Detroit area (technically a suburb, but it counts) I tried to keep this as accurate to the city as I could in terms of the layout. Wayne State University is the largest college in the city, so I'm assuming that's where Yuuri and Phichit went while they were training in Detroit. I did some research on the apartments that have a contract with WSU as far as dorms/fees per semester and I envisioned Yuuri and Phichit living in a place like the [University Towers](https://housing.wayne.edu/university-towers.php). Of course, they'd have the two bedroom apartment!
> 
> I'd also like to note that St. Petersburg was founded in 1703 as the capital of the Russian Empire, though it ceased to be capital after the Russian Revolution of 1917, so the time frame for when Victor was turned works.
> 
> I have no idea how long this fic will be or how regularly I'll be able to update it, but I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> As always, a big thank you to [@spicenee](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Spicenee/pseuds/Spicenee) for beta'ing this for me!

For hundreds of years, Victor Nikiforov roamed the world indulging in anything and everything he wanted. He witnessed the rise and fall of political empires, the beginnings and conclusions of world wars, and the height and wane of epidemics. Even with all of this excitement, he found himself growing bored quickly.

He would settle in one place, typically larger cities or their surrounding suburbs, for a decade or two and when he tired of it, he packed up his things and moved on. For the past fifty years or so, he had decided to make his way through the United States, the one country he hadn't been to in all his years of immortality. Some towns were better than others; some were more welcoming while some of the smaller towns were much more suspicious of him. He usually didn't stay long in those towns.

You see, Victor Nikiforov was a vampire. He had been turned in the early 1700's, though he barely remembered his creator or the circumstances behind it. All he knew is that on the eve of his 27th birthday, he found himself waking up in an alley of the newly founded capital Saint Petersburg. For a time he had believed that he had simply fallen ill after one too many drinks with his friends, but soon the thirst set in. It was then that his creator had approached him and taught him more or less how to be a vampire. Once he had been able to curb his thirst and master his powers to a satisfactory degree, he had been set loose to wreak havoc on the world.

Except, Victor had no desire to do anything of the sort.

He finally had the freedom to do whatever he wanted for as long as he wanted! He worked odd night jobs here and there – usually as a bartender, given the late hours and easy selection of victims should the need arise – and over the past hundred years or so, had amassed a small fortune that enabled him to travel wherever his fancy took him.

Since he landed in the United States in the early 1950's and much of the women tended to stay home and care for the children while their husbands worked, he had come up with a brilliant plan: play the role of a door-to-door salesman. Sure, it was cheesy, but when he dropped his pen and it just _happened_ to roll across the threshold, that was his in. The moment he thanked the naive woman standing in front of him for returning his pen and she replied “you're welcome”, well...that was it. It was a done deal.

Admittedly, the plan hadn't aged as well as he had hoped with the advancements of technology, but he found that generally, folks were fairly polite so it had continued to do well enough for his needs.

Most recently, he had settled in Detroit, Michigan on his trek from state to state. He admired the architecture and the nightlife of the city. It was a nice change from his usual hunting grounds of the suburbs and with everything being posted to social media as of late, it gave him just that little extra anonymity he needed. Typically, he'd find his mark and track them for a time – a few days to a week at most – in order to learn their schedule, who would be home at twilight, and whether or not they had any nosy neighbors.

It was sometime in early spring when Victor had found his next mark: an adorable Japanese man he saw one evening on campus at Wayne State University. Victor watched him through the window of the coffee shop located on campus as he jogged up to what he assumed was his friend. His eyes narrowed as he focused his attention on his target. The young man was rubbing the back of his neck and laughing while his friend scolded him about something. A bead of sweat dislodged itself from his temple and ran down his cheek, stopping at the junction of his jawline and neck.

Just above his pulsing jugular, the pulse rapid due to his exertion.

Victor licked his lips in anticipation.

“He'll do nicely,” he murmured. He sipped his latte as the Japanese man was dragged along by his friend as they ran to catch the last bus leaving campus that evening.

 

* * *

 

A week had passed since Victor decided on his next target and he felt as though he had mapped out the man's schedule adequately. He found out that the man and his friend shared a small apartment located on the western side of campus, near the medical college. He grew frustrated when he found that the two men usually returned to their apartment together and neither of them left once they were home for the evening. Victor had grown accustomed to being able to single out his targets, approaching them while they were home alone with little chance of a witness, so his nerves were becoming increasingly on edge.

He was about to give up and find another target, but the more he surveyed the Japanese man, the more intrigued he had become. What did his blood taste like? Would it be as saccharin sweet as he fantasized it would be? What sort of noises would the man make as he was overcome with pleasure as Victor had his way with him?

Victor _had_ to find out. It was more for his own sanity than anything else at this point.

Eventually, he couldn't wait any longer. It was Saturday night and Victor watched as many of the occupants of the apartment building left for the evening, either for evening classes or going out with friends. While he hadn't seen the Japanese man's friend leaving since they had returned home, he threw caution to the wind and approached the building. Victor silently thanked whichever force in the universe had made humans so gullible as he coerced two young women to let him inside the building on the premise that he couldn't remember the key code to enter the building.

Through his surveillance, Victor had discovered that the Japanese man lived on the third floor of the building, his apartment facing the street. It had been fairly easy for Victor to figure out that he lived in the last apartment on the left. As he walked down the hallway, he mentally recited his sales pitch. He knew he really didn't need to – it was the same pitch he had been using for decades – but for some reason he felt nervous approaching the doorway.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Victor ran his fingers through his silver fringe and straightened out his jacket before knocking on the door. A moment passed and he heard the soft padding of feet approaching the door and the soft sound of a voice calling out to someone in the background. Victor closed his eyes and prayed that it was his intended target; while his friend was cute, he had his eyes set on the Japanese man.

The door cracked open and Victor sighed with relief as a pair of brown eyes tentatively met his, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“C-can I help you?” asked the man shyly. He kept his grip on the door frame, his body tense as his gaze quickly took in the man standing before him.

“Hello there,” replied Victor easily. He smiled gently at the man and was pleased to see that he relaxed underneath his gaze. “I'm sorry to disturb you so late in the evening, but I was hoping you could help me with something.”

The man's brow furrowed again as he contemplated Victor's words. Finally, he swallowed thickly before replying, “What do you need help with?”

Victor tried to ignore how the man's Adam's apple bobbed up and down when he swallowed or how pink his lips looked when he absentmindedly chewed on his lower lip. “This is going to sound incredibly stupid –” he chuckled as he pulled out a pad of paper and a pen from his bag. “ -- but I was hoping I might be able to interest you in attending a seminar about time shares and vacation packages.”

“Time shares?” The man sounded skeptical, but he hadn't slammed the door in Victor's face yet.

“Yes, time shares. I know the notion is antiquated, but if you'd give me just a few minutes of your time and hear me out, I'll make it worth your while.” He flashed a small smile, his silver hair falling in his face and obscuring the left half of his face.

The man before him fidgeted as he debated whether he should or not, but finally he agreed to listen to Victor's sales pitch. Victor beamed and launched into his well-practiced pitch, though if he were truthful, he had no idea why anyone would ever sign up for a time share. They were a terrible idea, but if there was one thing he had learned throughout the years, it was that humans desired to travel the world no matter how poor they were.

“And that's pretty much it,” stated Victor. He had been true to his word and kept his pitch to only a few minutes, much to the relief of the man standing before him. “Now, I know you probably want nothing to do with coming to the seminar...”

The man chuckled, and Victor found himself staring at how his pink lips curved upwards so perfectly and his eyes crinkled just a little bit around the edges. “No, not really,” he admitted.

“Ah, I thought so,” sighed Victor, feigning disappointment. “But if I could get you to do one last favor and fill out this quick survey for me so that my boss doesn't chew me out again, I would really appreciate it.”

The man smiled at him and opened the door just enough so that Victor could see his entire frame up close. He handed his clipboard and pen to the man, their fingers brushing at the exchange and Victor felt his heart leap at the contact. While the man bent his head over the clipboard, Victor swallowed hard at the sight of the pen cap balancing precariously between his plump lips. He let his eyes roam over the rest of his form and was pleased to see that though his frame was slight, he was in good shape with defined muscles despite the baggy t-shirt and sweatpants he currently wore.

“Here you go.”

Victor was brought out of his trance when he realized that the man was trying to hand back his clipboard. He took the forms from him with shaky hands and as he went to pluck the pen from his outstretched hand – the one that had just been held in his mouth – he dropped it.

In actuality, Victor had legitimately dropped the pen in his shaken state but it was ultimately part of the plan so he wasn't about to split hairs. His gaze followed the pen as it rolled across the threshold, coming to a stop as it bumped against the man's bare feet. He felt his cheeks flush when the man knelt down to pick it up and offered it to him, his lips curved into a welcoming smile.

“Thank you, Mister...” He glanced at the form for a moment. “Katsuki.”

“Sure, no problem! Hey man, good luck with your boss. He sounds like a nightmare.”

And with that, Victor watched as Yuuri Katsuki waved farewell and quietly shut the door in his face. Victor continued to stare at the door in shock, his pen slipping from his grasp and rolling away.

_That was not how this was supposed to work._

Glancing at the clipboard in his hand, Victor's gaze hardened. He would take this Yuuri Katsuki's blood if it was the last thing he did.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Attempting to balance being an adult (ugh), work, and getting everything ready for conventions while still trying to get some writing in wears on a girl! But I'm so happy that there's been such a good response to this so far, y'all have no idea. I thought it'd be a silly idea that no one but me and my best friend would find amusing, but all of the feedback has been great and I'm touched.
> 
> This chapter is essentially the first chapter, but from Yuuri's POV because plot-wise, I felt it necessary to set everything up. So though it's kind of the same as the last chapter, it's different enough that I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Thank you as always to my lovely beta [@spicenee](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Spicenee/pseuds/Spicenee) for looking this over and putting up with me texting her random ideas in the middle of the night.
> 
> As always, I want to hear from you guys! Comments and kudos do a wonder for my motivation, winkwinknudgenudge.

Yuuri Katsuki was your average graduate student, desperately trying to stay afloat while working on his thesis in linguistics. At least, that's what he would say if anyone asked him about himself. In truth, he was making good progress in his classes, somehow managing to stay on top of his assignments even with working his part time job at the library on campus. Sure, he was a long way from home, but he had come to call Detroit his second home and he enjoyed the hustle and bustle of the city compared to his sleepy home town. It helped that his best friend Phichit Chulanont was just as far away from home as he was, so they were able to comfort each other during bouts of home-sickness. Yuuri made it a point to FaceTime with his family back home in Hasetsu as often as possible, despite the time difference making it difficult to reach them during the day.

The spring semester of his second year as a graduate student was well underway and Yuuri had been caught up in a meeting with his adviser over the direction of his thesis for the past couple of hours. There were plenty of edits that needed to be made before he submitted it to the Dean at the end of the semester, but Yuuri felt confident about it. The edits were manageable and his adviser was always more than willing to help him with suggestions on which sources to look at or which direction the paper should be headed.

Shouldering his backpack, he glanced at his watch as he exited his adviser's office. His eyes widened at the time and he set off in a sprint out of the building. He was supposed to meet Phichit almost an hour ago for a last minute coffee run before catching the bus back to their apartment and he had completely forgotten! He mentally prepared himself for the lecture he was sure to receive as he rounded the corner, the lights from the coffee shop coming into view.

“Phichit!” he called, waving his arm over his head as he approached his friend. He skidded to a stop, his breathing labored and his cheeks feeling flushed. Despite it being unusually cold for late March, he was sweating beneath his winter coat.

“Yuuri, do you have any idea what time it is?” scolded Phichit, his hands on his hips.

Yuuri laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. “I'm sorry... I was meeting with Mr. Giacometti about my thesis and I lost track of time.”

Phichit sighed exasperatedly before smiling at his friend. “You and that thesis... Well never mind, come on! We're going to miss the bus and I need to see who got away with murder!”

As Yuuri allowed himself to be dragged away, laughing at Phichit's passionate theories about who was to blame in this season of How to Get Away With Murder, he couldn't help but feel as though someone was watching him.

 

* * *

If Yuuri was honest with himself, he'd say that he hadn't been able to shake the feeling that someone was watching his every move for the past week. But because that notion sent shivers down his spine, he chalked it up to stress making him paranoid. He had thought about voicing his concerns to Phichit after classes one day, but decided against it; Phichit would probably suggest that he take a night off from working on his thesis and go out clubbing with him because clearly, his work was driving him insane.

Instead, Yuuri did what he did best: he pushed his paranoia to the back of his mind and allowed himself to become consumed with his studies.

Truthfully, he secretly wished that he had something more exciting to distract himself with, but he was completely inept in the romance department. Phichit disagreed, claiming that every time he managed to drag him out to a bar, there had been at least one person showing interest in him. Yuuri always vehemently denied it, saying that they were just making polite conversation while waiting for the bartender to bring them their drinks.

This still didn't stop Phichit from trying to set him up with anyone who appeared interested despite Yuuri's protests.

 

* * *

Dragging a hand down his face, Yuuri pushed himself away from his desk. It was Saturday night and he had been working on the edits for his thesis since early in the afternoon and his brain finally decided that enough was enough. Taking his glasses off, he rubbed his eyes, trying to force some of the tiredness out of them. Pushing out of his chair, he stretched, a low groan escaping him as he felt his joints pop satisfyingly. Shuffling out of his room, he made his way into the living room where Phichit was stretched out on their small sofa, his attention drifting between reruns of Gray's Anatomy and his phone.

Nudging Phichit's foot with his hand, he waited for him to lift his legs out of the way before plopping onto the sofa with a groan. Leaning his head back, he accepted the fact that he would become Phichit's foot rest for the remainder of the evening as his friend stretched his legs out onto his lap.

Phichit glanced up from his phone for a moment before turning his attention back to the device. “How's the thesis going?”

“It's going,” replied Yuuri. Tiredness seeped into his voice and he felt his bones beginning to ache after being hunched over his laptop for hours on end. He lifted his gaze when he heard a familiar theme song coming from the tv and raised an eyebrow. “Gray's Anatomy? Seriously?”

“Seriously,” responded Phichit, grinning at Yuuri. “There's nothing else on and I need a little drama in my life.”

“No one needs this much drama in their life.”

“Hey!” Yuuri grimaced as Phichit shoved one of his feet in his face.

Laughing, Yuuri pushed his foot away from his face. “Ah, right. I forget that your life force is sustained by drama.”

Phichit opened his mouth to retort, but was interrupted by a knock at the door. Yuuri glanced at the door before turning to face his friend, brows drawn together in uncertainty.

“Did you order take-out?”

“No, did you?”

Shaking his head, Yuuri nudged Phichit's feet off his lap and stood. “No, but I'll go see who it is. Maybe they got the wrong apartment number again.”

Phichit nodded and returned his attention back to his phone as Yuuri padded towards their front door. Peeking through the peephole in the door, he furrowed his brows. He had never seen the man standing outside his door before, so why was his heart hammering wildly against his rib cage? Taking a deep breath, he unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door just enough to lock gazes with the man in front of him.

Yuuri's breath hitched when his gaze was met by the bluest eyes he had ever seen in his entire life. No, they weren't blue; they were an icy cerulean and seemed to pierce his very soul. He tightened his grip on the door frame, hoping that it would give him the strength to remain somewhat composed.

“C-can I help you?”

“Hello there,” replied the man, his lips curving into a gentle smile. Something about his easy smile and gentle voice allowed Yuuri to relax slightly, his death grip on the door frame loosening. “I'm sorry to disturb you so late in the evening, but I was hoping you could help me with something.”

Ah, there it was. He was probably lost and looking for directions. Yuuri's brows drew together as he tried to understand why he suddenly felt disappointed in the fact that the man wasn't actually here for him. He had no reason to be disappointed, but here he was. His gaze remained locked with those piercing eyes and he swallowed thickly, his throat feeling dry.

“What do you need help with?” he asked tentatively before worrying his lower lip in anticipation of the man's answer.

“This is going to sound incredibly stupid –“ Yuuri felt as if the air had been knocked from his lungs when he heard the man's husky chuckle. He watched the lines of the man's jacket strain against his biceps as he rummaged around in his bag and absentmindedly licked his lips. He barely noticed that the man had pulled out a pad of paper and a pen when their gazes locked once again. “– but I was hoping I might be able to interest you in attending a seminar about time shares and vacation packages.”

“Time shares?” It wasn't what Yuuri had expected, but he was intrigued by the man in front of him enough that he would listen to anything he had to say if it meant losing himself in his gaze.

“Yes, time shares. I know the notion is antiquated, but if you'd give me just a few minutes of your time and hear me out, I'll make it worth your while.”

Yuuri's heart stopped for what was probably a full minute when the man flashed a charming smile at him, his silver hair falling in his eyes. When he was sure that he was going to faint, his heart decided to start beating a painfully fast tempo in his chest. Yuuri fidgeted under the man's intense gaze, feeling breathless and flustered and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on. When his voice failed him, he nodded and nearly fainted at the unbridled joy on the man's face.

The man launched into what was likely a very well rehearsed, polished presentation but Yuuri couldn't find it in himself to pay it any attention; he was too preoccupied with remembering to breathe. There was something about the man who was animatedly detailing points packages and something about being able to pick whichever resort he wanted to stay in (theoretically, at least) that caused him to lose all control over his emotions. He wanted nothing more but to feel those strong hands that were now waving excitedly in the air gripping his waist, pulling him into a warm embrace. Yuuri felt his gaze drifting down to the man's lips and he idly wondered if they were as soft and welcoming as they looked. His hands itched to run his fingers through his silver locks, to feel the man groan against his neck as he tugged on the silky strands.

“And that's pretty much it.” The spell was broken and Yuuri sighed, though he couldn't tell if it was due to relief or disappointment. “Now, I know you probably want nothing to do with coming to the seminar...”

Yuuri laughed, his voice sounding low and husky to his own ears. “No, not really,” he admitted.

“Ah, I thought so,” sighed the man, looking somewhat dejected that Yuuri wasn't interested. “But if I could get you to do one last favor and fill out this quick survey for me so that my boss doesn't chew me out again, I would really appreciate it.”

Yuuri smiled and opened the door a bit more so that he could take the clipboard and pen from the man's outstretched hands. He flushed at the shock that traveled down his arm when their fingers brushed against one another and he hoped that the other man hadn't noticed. He turned his attention to the survey and found it to be fairly straightforward: name, phone number, e-mail address, and then a series of yes or no questions about his interest in the time share offer presented to him that evening. Tugging the pen cap off with his teeth – a habit he had picked up over the years when he would scramble to write something down in the middle of the night when ideas came to him – and quickly filled out the survey.

“Here you go,” he said as he held the clipboard and pen out to the other man.

The man seemed to be a bit startled as he brought his gaze back up to his before taking the clipboard from him. The pen slipped from his grip and fell to the ground with a clatter before rolling across the threshold and coming to a stop as it bumped against Yuuri's bare foot. He bent down and plucked it from the ground, smiling as he held it out to the other man.

The man took the pen from him, his lips curved into a soft smile. “Thank you, Mister...Katsuki.”

“Sure, no problem! Hey man, good luck with your boss. He sounds like a nightmare.”

Yuuri hastily bid farewell to the rather shocked looking salesman before shutting the door and turning the deadbolt, the click of it shattering all of Yuuri's bravado. He clutched at his shirt as he leaned his back against the door, praying that his legs wouldn't give out on him. His cheeks felt flushed, his heart beating wildly in his chest and his breathing coming in little gasps as he fought to steady himself.

His mind raced as he tried to understand where the intense desire to throw himself at the man that stood before him mere minutes ago, claiming those inviting lips in a kiss. Dragging a hand over his face, he groaned as the images of being in an intense, desperate kiss flashed through his mind as quickly as he pushed the previous thoughts out.

Where was all of this coming from? Was he so desperate for love that he objectified the first attractive person that actually talked to him, never mind the fact that he was trying to sell him something.

“Yuuri, is everything okay?”

Phichit's concerned voice pulled Yuuri from his thoughts and he felt his cheeks color in shame. Clearing his throat, he steadied himself before making his way back into the living room. Phichit watched as he sat on the couch, noticeably more tense than before.

“Yuuri?”

“Ah, yeah, everything's fine. It was some guy trying to sell me time shares,” laughed Yuuri.

Phichit raised an eyebrow. “Times shares?”

“That's what I said. So, what did I miss?” he asked, turning his attention back to the tv.

“Well, Meredith and McDreamy are on the rocks again and she's been complaining to Cristina about it...”

Yuuri nodded along as Phichit explained what he had missed in the episode, but his thoughts were back on the silver-haired man. Worrying his lower lip, he wondered if he'd ever see him again and if there was anything to these sudden desires that had formed from a ten minute conversation on his door step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like Phichit is the type of person who would watching nothing but HTGAWM, Gray's Anatomy, Scandal and pretty much every other show on TV with a lot of drama. Only because I'm partially addicted to the same thing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what you're thinking, two updates in less than a week is crazy! But this chapter seriously came to me so easily and quickly that I had to get working on it. It's short, but it's all to set up the plot at this point. Chapter lengths should hopefully start getting longer from here, but they'll likely always vary from one to the next.
> 
> A quick note, during some of the research I've done on vampire lore indicated and one of Eastern Europe's theories on how vampires were “born” was that when one died but the spirit did not accept death (I'm guessing in the event of illness, murder, etc.) they reanimated as a vampire. Granted, the lore states that they were really more of a zombie-esque appearance of undead, so I'm taking artistic license here.
> 
> As always, thank you to my wonderful beta [@spicenee](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Spicenee/pseuds/Spicenee) for taking the time to look this over and help me brain storm for the next chapter.

“ _Oh my God_ , you've got to be shitting me!”

Victor pouted as he waited for the cackles of glee on the other end of the phone to subside. “Yuri, I'm serious! I even tried to glamour him and everything!”

“This is fantastic,” breathed Yuri, his glee still evident in his voice. “The almighty Victor Nikiforov was outsmarted by a fucking college kid.”

Victor tapped his foot impatiently as his supposed friend devolved into another bout of hysterical laughter at his expense. He had initially called Yuri to get some ideas from the younger vampire; they had met at a hotel in a small European town several decades ago and kept in touch as much as one could when traveling. Victor didn't know the circumstances behind why Yuri had been turned at such an early age – perhaps he had died but hadn't accepted it in the afterlife – but it wasn't Victor's place to pry. The two had a friendship of sorts, but at times like this Victor wondered whether or not they really were friends.

“Are you done?” he snapped, his temper getting the better of him.

Yuri's laughter subsided somewhat as he responded, “For now. But seriously, what are you going to do?”

“I don't know!” Victor knew he was whining, but he didn't care. It had been nearly a week since his failed attempt at charming Yuuri Katsuki and he couldn't get the Japanese man out of his mind. “What do you think I should do?”

“For one, I'd get a new routine. A door-to-door salesman? Come on, Victor. I know you're old, but I didn't think you were _that_ old.”

“Take that back.”

“Make me, old man.”

Victor sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, his brows furrowed in frustration. “Are you going to help me or just keep making fun of me?”

“Alright, fine. I guess I can give you some ideas on what to do...”

Yuri proved to be helpful for a change and soon Victor had a plethora of ideas swimming around in his head. Now he just had to pick the right one and make his move.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri sighed as he rolled onto his back, his hooded gaze directed at the ceiling of his bedroom. It had been nearly a week since his thoughts had been taken over by a handsome sales man (not that he was counting or anything) and he still couldn't seem to get it together enough to care about anything else. He attempted to work on his thesis, but every time he found his thoughts wandering back to the man and his sudden – but incredibly intense – desires.

Bringing his right arm across his eyes, he inhaled deeply and tried to recall their meeting. He didn't remember much, which wasn't a surprise because he had barely paid attention to a word coming out of the man's mouth. What he did manage to remember was a charming smile, striking blue eyes and silver hair.

(Yuuri had briefly wondered if it was the man's natural hair color, but had dismissed the thought upon seeing several girls with their hair dyed silver around campus.)

He had also vaguely recognized some kind of accent – Russian or Eastern European perhaps? – but it was subtle enough that Yuuri was unable to pinpoint it exactly. Yuuri frowned as he felt a blush creep across his cheeks and rolled onto his stomach, shoving his face into his pillow with a heavy sigh.

It was doubtful that he would ever see him again, so why was he hoping so desperately to bump into him again? Maybe he should stop fixating on the mystery sales man and try to get on with his life.

A knock sounded on his bedroom door and Yuuri turned his head so that his gaze landed on Phichit, who was standing in his doorway, a concerned look on his face. “Yuuri, are you okay?”

“Peachy.”

Phichit clucked his tongue disapprovingly and made his way across the threshold to sit on the bed beside Yuuri. “I don't know what happened to make you turn into some mopey, lovesick teenager, but you need to do something about it.”

“I'm not lovesick!” snapped Yuuri. Sighing, he propped his chin up on his pillow, gaze directed at his headboard. “I just...I don't know what's happening to me, Phichit. I barely met the guy – he tried to sell me time shares for Christ's sake – and I know absolutely nothing about him, but...”

“But you can't get him out of your head?” Phichit's lips quirked into a small smile at the scathing look Yuuri shot him. “Am I wrong?”

Yuuri buried his face into his pillow with a groan. After a moment of silence, Phichit heard a muffled “No...” from his friend.

“Like I said, lovesick,” teased Phichit. He rubbed soothing circles on Yuuri's upper back as his friend squawked in protest. “But lovesick or not, you do have to be an adult and go to work today.”

Yuuri heard an uncharacteristically childish whine escape his throat as he attempted to burrow further into his bed. “I don't wanna.”

“But you have to. The rent's not going to pay itself, you know.”

Propping himself up on his elbows, Yuuri glared at Phichit's smug look. “And what exactly are your plans for today?”

Phichit laughed nervously, knowing full well that it was a sore subject that Yuuri needed to get a part-time job to help afford the rent while Phichit's parents simply sent him however much money he needed to get by. “Well...I do have a class that I should probably go to today.” Yuuri's eyes narrowed suspiciously. “And once we both get back, we're going out! If there's anything I've learned, it's that a few drinks will help anyone get over someone. Even mysterious sales men.”

The color drained from Yuuri's face as he remembered what happened the last time he and Phichit had 'gone out for a drink'. “Phichit, no.”

“Phichit, _yes_.”

After a moment of staring at his best friend, Yuuri's shoulders sagged in defeat. “I'm not going to win this, am I?”

Phichit beamed. “Not a chance! Now get up and get ready for work,” he chirped, patting Yuuri on the shoulder.

Yuuri flopped back onto his bed with a huff.

 

* * *

 

The room was quiet, only the sound of a squeaky cart wheel, papers rustling and the occasional muffled cough breaking the monotonous silence. Yuuri pushed his cart around the corner of an aisle and scanned the shelves for the correct section he was looking for. Usually, he thoroughly enjoyed the silence of working in the campus library. His conversations with visitors were few and far between and when he was approached by a patron, it was typically just to point them in the direction of the section they were looking for.

But today he wished he had something to distract himself from his own deafening thoughts.

Sure, he had tasks to complete before his shift ended, but searching for the correct section to put a copy of Tolstoy's _Anna Karenina_ wasn't exactly thrilling. His brows furrowed as he squinted at the numbers on the book spines in front of him before slipping the book into it's proper place. Turning his attention back to the cart beside him, he ran his fingertip along the curved spines of the books as he double checked there weren't any others that belonged in the same section. Finding none, he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and grasped the handle of the cart. With some minor exertion, he pushed the cart down the aisle, wheels squeaking in protest.

He paused here and there, raking his gaze over an endless row of books and periodicals and slipping misplaced books back into their designated slots on the shelf. Slowly, he began to empty his cart of returned books as he silently made his way throughout the library. He was only approached by patrons a handful of times; Yuuri was thankful for the distraction from his thoughts as he showed them where they could find a particular resource or helped an elderly couple log on to the computers.

But it didn't matter what he distracted himself with because no matter how desperately hard he tried to ignore the thoughts mulling about in the back of his mind, he couldn't. His cheeks flushed when he remembered the fierce desire to throw his arms around the sales man's neck and capture his lips in a bruising, needy kiss. Shaking his head, he bit his lower lip as he forced the thoughts back to the recesses of his mind where they would eventually fade. At least, he hoped they would.

Determined to think about literally _anything_ other than the silver haired man, Yuuri grabbed the last remaining book from his return cart and made his way towards the back of the library. Scratching the back of his neck, he idly wondered if he'd be able to get out of going to the local bar with Phichit that night. While he did enjoy cutting loose every now and then, he always ended up drinking too much when he went out with Phichit, which was usually...problematic.

Catching sight of the section he was searching for, he took a left and headed towards the end of the bookshelves, his eyes scanning the numbers as he went. Just as he caught sight of the spot he was looking for, he bumped into something hard.

No, not something.

Some _one_.

Someone who instinctively reached out to grasp Yuuri's shoulders, steadying him before he fell. Someone whose cologne wafted around Yuuri, enveloping him in a comforting embrace of lavender and just a hint of something inherently earthy.

Yuuri's heart hammered a wild tattoo in his chest, the sound so loud to his own ears that he swore the man before him could hear it too. His face and neck felt flushed and he just couldn't quite remember to breathe. His mind raced; the distinct scent of the man's cologne was so familiar, but from where?

“I-I'm so sorry!” he exclaimed, keeping his gaze trained on the book in his hands. “I wasn't watching where I was going and –“

Yuuri felt himself flush even more when the man chuckled softly, a soft melodic sound. He gripped the book in his hands so tightly his knuckles turned white as he tried to control his breathing. His eyes widened when he felt the man release his grip on one of his shoulders, fingers trailing up and along his jawline, leaving fire in their wake. He trembled as the man hooked his index finger under Yuuri's chin, the pad of his thumb brushing against his lower lip as his chin was tilted upwards until their gazes locked.

He inhaled sharply when his gaze met a pair of striking cerulean eyes, a mischievous twinkle in their depths.

“You... You're...” he stammered, finding that his brain had ceased all coherent thought processes in an attempt to keep his vital organs working.

A flash of stunningly white teeth, a sweep of silver locks and a low laugh caused Yuuri to nearly faint right then and there.

“Fancy meeting you again, Mr. Katsuki.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did some very brief research on what men's cologne typically smells like (since I am a woman and therefore don't wear cologne) and found a list of 2016's most popular colognes. Victor's cologne is based on [this one](http://www.histoiresdeparfums.com/us/products/1725.php), since I feel like it would fit him nicely.
> 
> Also, feel free to hang out with me on [tumblr](http://mayelisa.tumblr.com/)!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say, writing Phichit is seriously one of my all-time favorite things right now. I had so much fun writing him interacting with Yuuri, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. For plot purposes, we'll say that Leo and Guang-Hong are of legal drinking age because I'm just too lazy to really explain how or why they're hanging around a bunch of college kids.
> 
> Thank you everyone for all of your lovely comments and kudos! I love hearing that y'all are enjoying this and all of your feedback makes me so happy. Keep 'em coming because that's really what motivates me to keep writing!
> 
> As always, thank you to my wonderful beta [@spicenee](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Spicenee/pseuds/Spicenee) for taking the time to look this over and giving me a few pointers.

“Fancy meeting you again, Mr. Katsuki.”

Yuuri froze, his grip on the book in his hands becoming slack, the soft thud going unnoticed by either man as the book slipped from his hands and fell to the floor. His breath came in small gasps as he tried to wrap his increasingly sparse thoughts around what was happening. He opened his mouth to speak, but his voice failed him when he felt the pressure of the man's thumb against his lower lip.

Swallowing thickly, Yuuri tried again. “You're that...that –“

The man in front of him laughed again, the sound low and husky as his gaze became hooded. Yuuri swore he saw red flash momentarily in the man's blue eyes, but he was probably just imagining it. “I guess I never formally introduced myself. My name is Victor,” murmured the man.

“V-Victor,” breathed Yuuri. He felt increasingly flustered under Victor's intense gaze, but there was something keeping him from breaking his gaze away.

“Mr. Katsuki, would you –“

“Yuuri.”

Victor blinked in surprise and Yuuri felt as if a weight had been lifted from his chest. Taking a deep breath, he ducked his head. “Y-you can call me Yuuri.”

Smiling softly, Victor relinquished Yuuri's chin, fingers brushing along his jaw as he let his hand drop to his side. He watched as Yuuri fidgeted, his hands curling into the hem of his shirt as he avoided his gaze.

“Yuuri, then.” Victor shoved his hands in his pockets, turning his gaze to the row of books behind Yuuri. “I was hoping I'd run into you again.”

Yuuri tentatively looked up at Victor, his cheeks burning. “Not to try and sell me time shares again, I hope.”

“Oh no, nothing like that,” Victor laughed, waving a hand dismissively. He glanced at Yuuri out of the corner of his eye and noticed that he jumped slightly before turning his gaze away again. Running his fingers through his hair, he turned to look at Yuuri, a look of uncertainty on his face as he scratched the back of his neck. “Actually, I was wondering if you'd like to go out sometime.”

Yuuri was certain that he was going insane. There was no way that someone like Victor – handsome, well-dressed, and clearly highly educated – would want to take him out on a date. Shaking his head, Yuuri stared up at Victor, his eyes wide and his mouth gaping. “I'm sorry, could you repeat that?”

Victor ducked his head, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. “I was hoping that we could go out sometime. I mean, for coffee or something if you're not up for dinner.”

The sight of Victor glancing at Yuuri from beneath his long lashes, his cerulean eyes shining with hope and just a hint of uncertainty from behind his silver locks nearly caused Yuuri's heart to give out. He felt his entire face heat up and he was certain that his ears and neck were equally flushed.

“L-like a...a _d-date_?!” he stammered.

Victor nodded eagerly, a hesitant smile on his lips as he waited for Yuuri's answer.

“I... I, um...” Yuuri frantically looked anywhere other than Victor. “What's that Maria? Y-yeah, of course! I'm sorry, but I'm needed at the front desk so um, raincheck?”

Without waiting for Victor to answer, Yuuri spun on his heel and sprinted down the aisle and out of sight. Sighing, Victor bent down to pick up the book Yuuri had dropped and turned it over in his hands. His brows furrowed as he mulled over the events that had just taken place.

This was going to be harder than he thought.

* * *

 Panting, Yuuri braced himself against the door of the staff break room. Focusing on his breathing, he willed himself to calm down even as his heart raced almost painfully in his chest. He felt flushed, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as his heart rate finally, finally began to slow to a steady rhythm.

His mind reeled as he tried to wrap his thoughts about Victor's request.

A date.

A real life, actual date.

Swallowing thickly, Yuuri pulled his phone from his pocket and shakily pulled up Phichit's contact information before hitting the call button.

He desperately needed some advice and Phichit would know what to do. Probably.

_“Hello?”_

“Oh thank God, Phichit. I need your help,” whispered Yuuri.

_“Yuuri? Is everything okay? Are you dying? Oh my God, there's a murderer in the library isn't there?! Hang on, I'll call –“_

“Phichit!” squeaked Yuuri. He should have known Phichit would immediately go to the absolute worst-case scenario, even if it was entirely unlikely to happen. “There isn't a murderer in the library!”

_“Oh. Good. What's up?”_

Yuuri pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed in frustration. “Do you remember that sales man from the other day?”

_“Time Share Guy?”_

“Yeah.”

_“You mean the guy who you've been daydreaming about for the past week despite only talking to him for ten minutes and not even knowing his name?”_

“ _Phichit_ ,” hissed Yuuri. “Not helping.”

_“Sorry, sorry. So what about him?”_

“He... I ran into him at the library,” muttered Yuuri. He heard the sharp intake of air on the other line and could picture Phichit leaning in, his eyes twinkling as he hung on every word.

_“And?”_

“And he...” Yuuri inhaled shakily. “He asked me out on a date.”

The line went silent and for a moment Yuuri thought his phone had disconnected. Then, _“You said yes right?”_

“No, I panicked and made an excuse to leave and –“

_“Yuuri Katsuki, you march yourself back out there and find Time Share Guy and you tell him you'd absolutely love to go on a date with him.”_

“But Phichit –“

_“No buts!”_ Yuuri winced at the sharp tone of Phichit's voice. _“You've been fawning over this guy for over a week and you just happen to bump into him at work? This can't just be happenstance.”_

Yuuri sighed and hung his head. “I guess you're right...”

_“I'm always right. Now go find him before he thinks you're blowing him off!”_

After a hurried goodbye, Yuuri pocketed his phone and steeled his resolve. Phichit was right. This couldn't just be chance that he ran into Victor again. And really, what was there to lose over one date?

Exhaling the breath he hadn't realized he was holding, Yuuri exited the break room and headed back to the corner of the building he had left Victor. As he approached the aisle, he prayed that Victor was still there. Clenching his hands into fists, he marched around the corner, determined to not back down.

He inhaled sharply, his hands falling limp at his sides.

Victor was gone.

He had missed his chance.

Running a hand through his hair, Yuuri bit his lower lip as he struggled to not let his frustration get the better of him. Maybe going out with Phichit wouldn't be such a bad idea after all.

* * *

 

“Phichit, what am I going to do?” whimpered Yuuri, the side of his face pressed against the bar top as he stared helplessly at his friend. “I fucked up. I really, _really_ fucked up.”

“Yes you did,” replied Phichit. Yuuri groaned at his friend's blunt response as Phichit flagged down the bartender and ordered something from him. “But you know what you can do instead of moping?”

Yuuri perked up a bit and raised his head off the cool wood of the bar top. “What?”

Phichit grinned as he slid a shot glass filled to the brim with an amber colored liquor towards him. “Drink.”

Yuuri stared blankly at his best friend, unsure of whether or not Phichit really wanted to help him or just wanted him to get wasted and forget about Victor. At Phichit's insistence, he turned his gaze to the shot glass in front of him. He picked it up and sniffed at the liquid, his nose wrinkling at the strong scent. “What did you order?”

“Tequila. But I ordered the good stuff, so you shouldn't get sick.” Phichit busied himself with salting the back of his hand before he raised his own shot glass to Yuuri, his eyes twinkling. “To missed chances at love and incredibly hot time share salesmen!”

Yuuri couldn't help but laugh, clinking his glass against Phichit's before licking salt off the back of his hand and downing the liquid, popping a wedge of lime in his mouth afterwards. He exhaled harshly as the liquor burned his throat, a welcoming warmth spreading throughout his chest. Pushing the shot glass away from himself, he turned to grin at Phichit.

“Better?” asked Phichit, his cheeks beginning to flush.

“Better,” affirmed Yuuri.

As the night went on, more and more people filtered into the bar – mostly college students looking to blow off some steam – and the music became more dance-worthy. Yuuri followed Phichit as he flitted from the bar to table to dance floor, his own steps becoming unsteady as Phichit continued to supply him with drinks.

Yuuri eventually found himself sitting back at the bar as he nursed his drink, his body pleasantly buzzing from the alcohol and music, his mind blissfully devoid of all thoughts. Phichit squealed beside him and embraced two men who joined them at the bar. Yuuri recognized them from a few of his classes – Leo and Guang-Hong if he remembered correctly – and welcomed them as well. Yuuri was too drunk to really keep track of the conversation, but he laughed along with the others and interjected here and there. Eventually, his attention began to wander as he glanced around the bar.

His heart leapt into his throat when he spotted a crown of silver hair at the end of the bar top, near the back of the building. Eyes wide, he found his gaze locking with an all too familiar pair of cerulean eyes. Swallowing thickly, he watched as Victor smiled knowingly and raised his glass, nodding towards him.

Murmuring something to Phichit, Yuuri pushed himself away from the bar and weaved through the crowd until he found himself face to face with Victor once again.

“ _You,_ ” he breathed. He swayed slightly, his head fuzzy with alcohol and his vision unsteady. His gaze settled on Victor's lips as he blindly groped for the seat beside him.

Victor chuckled, his warm breath fanning across Yuuri's ear as he leaned in to be heard over the loud music. “What are the chances that we meet twice in one day, Yuuri?”

Yuuri swallowed against his dry throat and hastily took a sip of his drink. “I – I'm sorry for running off like that earlier,” he murmured, his gaze downcast.

Victor leaned his cheek against his hand, elbow propped up on the bar top as he watched Yuuri sway slightly in his seat. Humming, he brought his hand up to brush Yuuri's bangs out of his face, fingertips brushing lightly against his hairline and down to his temple. Yuuri's eyes widened and he glanced up at Victor from beneath dark lashes and Victor felt his breath catch slightly. Licking his lips, Victor's gaze softened.

“You don't need to apologize,” he said as he shifted closer. He could smell the alcohol on Yuuri's breath, the scent mingling with the subtle scent of his cologne and Victor ached to be alone with him. “It was rather sudden, after all.”

Yuuri's skin prickled as Victor's fingers hovered at his hairline, as if he were unsure of what to do with his hand. He couldn't tell if it was due to the alcohol, but warmth pooled in his stomach and he dazedly stared up at the man before him.

“I... I think I'd like to,” he murmured.

“Like to what?”

Yuuri's brow furrowed. What did he want to do with Victor again? It was somewhere in the back of his mind, but his mind was too foggy to figure it out. He stared at Victor, his gaze drifting from his eyes to his silver hair falling against his cheekbones just so, and along his sharp jawline before finally settling on his lips once again.

Now he remembered.

“I think I'd like to...” he whispered as he leaned in, lips brushing against Victor's.

The kiss was chaste, lips simply bumping against each other, but Yuuri felt as though his body came alive with electricity at the touch. Maybe it was the alcohol and maybe it wasn't, but all Yuuri cared about was how right it felt. A sigh escaped his lips as Victor closed the distance between them once again. Closing his eyes, Yuuri carded his fingers through Victor's hair as the kiss deepened.

Victor groaned against Yuuri's lips as he gripped his hip, wanting to pull him closer but being unable to. He nipped at his lower lip, one of his fangs accidentally pricking the delicate skin, causing a small bead of blood to form. Without thinking, Victor swept his tongue across Yuuri's lower lip; his pulse quickened as the drop of blood exploded on his tongue, sending shock waves through his body. His grip on Yuuri's hip tightened as Yuuri's lips parted, a soft moan escaping him when Victor slipped his tongue past his lips.

The kiss quickly became frenzied and needy; Yuuri clutched desperately to Victor's shirt in an attempt to ground himself in the storm of sensations assaulting him. Only when his lungs begged for air did Yuuri break the kiss, his breathing ragged. His body felt as though it had been lit aflame, his cheeks burning from more than just the alcohol coursing through his veins. Dazedly, he brought his gaze up to Victor's and inhaled sharply; Victor's eyes had darkened, pupils blown wide and a look of desperate need shining in their depths.

Snapping out of his daze, Yuuri's eyes widened at the realization of what he had done and he covered his mouth in shock.

“I... I'm so sorry,” he whispered. “I don't know what came over me.”

Victor didn't seem to hear him, instead bringing his hand up to brush fingertips along the shell of Yuuri's ear. His hand inched towards the back of Yuuri's head, intent of bringing him back into their kiss.

It took great discipline on his part, but Yuuri somehow managed to slip out of Victor's grasp. He took a tentative step backwards, his heart aching at the look of confusion blossoming on Victor's face.

“I need to go.”

Tearing his gaze from Victor's, Yuuri hurried to weave his way through the crowd and back to his friends. Victor watched as he had a few hurried words with his friends, one of them glancing in his direction. Without another word, Yuuri hastily shoved a few bills of money in his friend's hand and bolted out of the bar.

Biting his lip, Victor cursed himself for being so reckless. He had planned everything out so carefully; running into Yuuri at his job, scouting out the bar they frequented in the hopes of him returning at some point. He was always so careful and to think that a single drunken kiss could unravel all of his plans. His hands shook as he brushed his fingertips over his lips, his tongue still tingling from the blood lingering on it. In all his years, he had never tasted a human's blood quite like Yuuri's and he had to have a second taste.

“Are you Time Share Guy?”

Victor spun around in confusion. He was met with an inebriated Thai man who was staring at him intently. “Time Share Guy?”

“Yeah, Time Share Guy.” The man nodded to himself, as if it made all the sense in the world.

“I – I guess?”

Seemingly satisfied with his answer, the man dug out a pen from his pocket and scribbled something on a napkin he plucked from behind the bar. Victor blinked in confusion as the man shoved the napkin into his hands.

“Be patient with him,” he said with a wink.

Victor watched as he sauntered away, sending him a wiggly fingered wave and a knowing look over his shoulder, and rejoining his friends briefly before heading out of the bar in search of Yuuri. After a moment, Victor glanced at the napkin in his hands and smiled at the scribbled note.

Contained in the small, poorly written note was Yuuri's cell phone number.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry for the long wait! I really struggled with this chapter, likely because it's more plot driven and I really had to commit to how I wanted things to progress from here. But this chapter is twice as long as the others, so I'm hoping that makes up for it!
> 
> The restaurant that Yuuri and Victor go to was inspired by Chartreuse Kitchen & Cocktails, which is a legit restaurant near WSU in Detroit. I haven't personally been there, but after looking at their menu I think I might have to next time I'm home!
> 
> I'd also like to really quickly thank everyone who has left me comments or kudos! I honestly can't believe that I got all of the amazing feedback as I did, so I'm still a little overwhelmed by it all. So thank you! And as always, big thanks to [@spicenee](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Spicenee/pseuds/Spicenee) for helping me brainstorm and for reassuring me that I'm not a total hack at this whole writing business. My beta is awesome! :D

Groaning, Yuuri buried his face in his pillow in an attempt to shield his eyes from the streams of light piercing through the gaps in his curtains. Bringing his hand to his head, he grimaced at the pounding in his head. His mouth was dry and felt as though he had eaten a bushel of cotton and his body ached like he had been through the most brutal work out in the history of mankind.

Pulling the blankets over his head, he shuffled into a more comfortable position, curling his arms into his chest. Closing his eyes, he sighed contently as the warmth of his bed enveloped his body and eased some of his aches and pains. He had just begun to drift off to sleep when his phone vibrated, pulling him out of his doze. Furrowing his brows, he groped around the bed for his phone, not bothering to open his eyes. His fingers brushed over the cool metal of his phone and he picked up the device, pulling it under the blankets with him. He squinted when he hit the home button and the screen lit up.

The first thing he noted was the time; it was well after eleven o'clock and he grumbled halfheartedly. He was glad that it was Sunday, otherwise he would have missed two of his classes by now.

The second thing he noted was a new text message from an unfamiliar number.

Frowning, he unlocked his phone and pulled up his messenger app. He stared at the unread message for a moment before tapping his thumb on it. His eyes widened and his heart leapt into his throat as he reread the message several times.

**I enjoyed seeing you last night, Yuuri. You really surprised me.**

Yuuri froze, his sluggish mind reeling as he tried to remember the events of last night. He had gone out with Phichit and had a few drinks and...

He couldn't remember.

He knew something had happened, but what? Biting his lower lip in thought, he winced at a sharp pain that radiated from his lip. Bringing his fingers to his lips, his heart hammered wildly as he brushed his fingertips over a small nick on the corner of his lips.

Scrambling out of bed, Yuuri ignored the pounding in his head as he grabbed blindly for his glasses and stumbled out into the living room. Gripping the door frame of his bedroom, his attention was brought to the front door as Phichit returned to their apartment. Yuuri stared at his friend as he kicked off his shoes and turned around, his eyes widening in surprise for a moment before a soft smile curved his lips.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” teased Phichit as he breezed past Yuuri and into the living room. He set down a drink carrier and small paper bag before shrugging his coat off. “I brought you some coffee, since I figured you'd need it. I also got us some bagels.”

“Phichit, what happened last night?”

Phichit paused, his hands curled around his own coffee cup and he shook his head. “You seriously don't remember? I thought you Kyushu boys could hold your liquor.”

“ _Phichit_.”

Yuuri found himself being steered into the living room and a gentle nudge to his shoulder had him sitting on their sofa. The other coffee cup was thrust into his hand, along with a few tablets of ibuprofen. He absently took the medication, taking a swig of the latte Phichit had bought him to wash it down, as he watched Phichit plop onto the couch beside him, his feet propped up on the coffee table. Under Phichit's intense gaze, Yuuri dropped his gaze to the lid on his coffee cup and nursed his drink slowly.

“You really don't remember what happened?”

Yuuri shook his head no, but groaned and clutched at his forehead when his body reminded him that it would be better to remain still. Phichit sighed, a wry smile on his lips as he watched his friend.

“Well, let me tell you, it was probably the most interesting night out we've had in awhile,” he started. At Yuuri's horrified expression, he laughed and waved his hand. “Okay, not _quite_ as interesting as that last time.”

Yuuri remained silent as Phichit launched into the details of the night before; how they had been doing shots when Leo and Guang-Hong joined them, how Yuuri had slipped away from their group to talk to someone in the back of the bar, how he had slipped the man Yuuri's cell phone number before leaving in search of Yuuri –

“You did _what_?” gasped Yuuri, his cheeks flaming in embarrassment.

Phichit hummed noncommittally as he sipped his drink. “I gave Time Share Guy your number.”

“But why?!”

“Yuuri, you snogged the guy in the back of the bar for a solid ten minutes before bolting. I felt bad for him.” He paused before shooting Yuuri a cheeky grin. “Who knew you were such a tease?”

If it were possible for the floor to open up and swallow Yuuri so that he could die of embarrassment alone, he would have gladly accepted it. Burying his face in one of the pillows on the sofa, he groaned as Phichit laughed as he patted him on the back.

As if the world didn't hate him enough, Yuuri's phone vibrated, alerting him to a new text message. Hesitantly, he glanced at his phone. He could almost feel the curiosity radiating off of his best friend and he quickly unlocked the phone before it was taken away from him.

**I'd like to see you again.**

Yuuri flushed, his hands shaking as he read the message. He swallowed against his suddenly dry throat and licked his lips in uncertainty. Phichit was reading over his shoulder, but Yuuri couldn't bring himself to care.

Another notification.

**If you'd let me.**

A low whistle sounded in his ear as Phichit read the second message. “Someone's got it bad.”

Yuuri turned to face his friend; his body trembled and his eyes were wide with panic. “Wh-what do I do?”

“I'd start with replying to him.”

Biting his lower lip, Yuuri turned his gaze back to his phone. He tapped on the 'reply' bar and his thumbs hovered above the touch screen keypad and...

Nothing.

He couldn't do it. Even if he had somehow been able to charm someone like Victor, he couldn't remember anything from the night before. He couldn't remember what he had said – or did – to make Victor so interested in him. There was no way that Victor would want to –

Yuuri was pulled from his spiraling thoughts when Phichit took his phone out of his hands and quickly tapped out a reply. Horrified, Yuuri stared at his friend as he took a moment to smile at him before hitting the send button and handing his phone back.

“There. That wasn't so bad was it?”

Not trusting himself to speak, Yuuri looked at his phone with trepidation. He swore his heart nearly stopped when he read the reply Phichit had just sent.

**I'd love to. Tell me when and where. ;)**

“Phichit, what did you...” Another notification cut Yuuri off as his attention was diverted back to his phone.

**Wonderful! How does tomorrow at 8 sound?**

Glancing at Phichit, Yuuri steeled his resolve at his friend's encouraging smile. Furrowing his brows, he inhaled deeply as he focused on his phone. Maybe Phichit was right; it was just a date. Even if everything ended horribly, at least he'd get a free meal out of it.

Part of him hoped it would lead to more, but he quickly squashed that small voice in the back of his head.

Under Phichit's supervision, Yuuri replied back to Victor, his confidence increasing with each successful text message. Over the next ten minutes, Yuuri and Victor settled the details of their date: they were to meet at the campus library around 8 o'clock, though Victor claimed he was sworn to secrecy on the location of the restaurant.

With the last detail hammered out, Yuuri slumped against the couch and let his phone slip to the floor. The stress of the exchange had taken more out of him than he thought and he couldn't wait to spend the rest of the afternoon lounging around doing nothing.

“Well?” prompted Phichit. Yuuri laughed at his friend, who was nearly vibrating with excitement in his seat.

“We're meeting at the library tomorrow at eight for dinner. He won't tell me where we're going though,” he sighed. He wished that Victor would tell him where they were going so that he could scout out the menu ahead of time.

Phichit clapped his hands excitedly, his eyes sparkling. “I'm so proud of you, Yuuri! You're finally going on a date with Time Share Guy!”

“Victor.”

“Huh?”

Yuuri flushed and ducked his head. “His name is Victor.”

Phichit hummed in thought, his index finger resting on his chin as the contemplated the new information. “I'm still calling him Time Share Guy.”

 

* * *

 

Checking his watch for the hundredth time, Yuuri bounced on the balls of his feet anxiously. Glancing around, he hoped he hadn't misinterpreted which library they had agreed to meet at. Pulling out his phone, he pulled up his conversation with Victor once again. Frowning when he saw that he was in fact at the correct meeting place, he shoved his phone back into his pocket.

As the seconds slowly ticked by, his attention was turned to his outfit. Phichit had insisted on helping him pick out something other than his usual jeans and t-shirt. Instead, he had been wrangled into a pair of charcoal gray slacks and a navy blue button down shirt that had been hiding in the back of his closet since his undergrad graduation ceremony. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, suddenly thankful that Phichit had lost the argument of whether or not he should wear a tie. A gust of wind ruffled his hair, causing him to shiver despite his wool coat.

He glanced at his watch again.

8 o'clock.

With a sigh, he looked up at the night sky. He knew he had arrived early, but part of him had hoped that Victor would have arrived early too. He would give him ten more minutes before calling it a night and heading back to his apartment in defeat. Pulling out his phone, he passed the time scrolling through his Instagram feed, absently liking photos here and there.

“Yuuri!”

Glancing up from his phone, Yuuri felt a sense of relief wash over him when he saw Victor running towards him, a bright smile on his face. Pocketing his phone, he returned the smile earnestly and waved as Victor slowed his pace as he approached him. Victor doubled over, hands on his knees as he gasped for air.

“Sorry for being late,” he gasped. “Did you know traffic in Detroit is horrendous this time of night?”

“I had no idea,” teased Yuuri.

Victor straightened to his full height and rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks still tinted a light pink from his run. “I was hoping to be the first one here, but you seem to have beaten me to the punch.”

Yuuri flushed in embarrassment, averting his gaze. “I just got here a few minutes ago,” he mumbled.

Victor beamed. “Come on. I made reservations at an excellent restaurant nearby, but we need to hurry if we're going to make it.” He paused as if in thought before chuckling. “I also might be double parked, so we should go before they catch me.”

Yuuri shook his head, a huff of laughter escaping him. “Well, let's get going before you get a ticket.”

 

* * *

 

The drive to the restaurant was a mere twenty minutes, but the tension in the car made Victor swear it was almost an eternity. He kept his eyes trained on the road before him, though he was keenly aware of his companion's fidgeting. Several times during their ride he heard Yuuri inhale, as if he was going to say something but then sigh a moment later, his gaze locked on his hands in his lap.

Victor silently turned the car into a small parking lot, maneuvering his car into a cramped parking spot with ease before shutting off the engine. Turning to face Yuuri, he smiled.

“Nervous?” he asked quietly.

Yuuri started at his voice, an involuntary gasp breaking his silence. Victor tilted his head in curiosity as wide, brown eyes locked on his, a glimmer of uncertainty hidden beneath something he couldn't quite pinpoint. Yuuri quickly dropped his gaze back down to his hands, clasped together tightly in his lap.

“I...haven't been on a date in a long time,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Victor's expression softened at the quiet admission. Reaching across the console, he brushed a stray hair out of Yuuri's eyes, fingers trails across the top of his ear. He felt Yuuri jump under his touch before bringing his gaze back to meet Victor's.

“Let's pretend it's not a date then,” he suggested. He smiled warmly at Yuuri's confused expression. “Let's say we're just two friends going out to dinner at a reasonably upscale restaurant with absolutely no romantic intentions at all.”

Yuuri stared at him, blinking in surprise. For the briefest of moments, Victor held his breath as he waited for a response.

He breathed a sigh of relief when a soft laugh greeted his ears.

“That's ridiculous,” chuckled Yuuri. A shy smile graced his lips and Victor thought he could die right then and there.

(Metaphorically. He couldn't really die, being a vampire and all.)

“Maybe so, but it got you to relax didn't it?” With a cheeky grin and a wink for good measure, Victor opened his car door. “Now let's go eat because I don't know about you, but I'm famished.”

As they walked across the parking lot and across the street towards the small restaurant tucked in amongst the larger office buildings on either side of the street, Victor was happy to see that Yuuri had relaxed somewhat. While his goal was ultimately satiating his thirst – and perhaps having a bit of fun while he was at it – he had come to accept the fact that Yuuri was rather skittish and thus, it would likely take longer than normal to reach his end goal.

Sure, he could always find another victim, have a quick night of fun and be on his way, but where was the fun in that? Where was the excitement that he had craved for so long?

There was something about Yuuri that made his pulse quicken, his blood burning like fire in his veins and he had finally figured out what it was: the thrill of the hunt.

He hurried Yuuri inside the restaurant when a particularly strong gust of wind tugged at their coats, the door closing softly behind them. After a brief conversation with the hostess, they were quickly escorted to their table. Shrugging out of his coat, Victor helped Yuuri with his before draping them both over the back of his chair.

Victor hid a smile as he watched Yuuri's eyes dart around the restaurant, taking in every inch of the décor. The ambiance was quiet and intimate, only a few small wooden tables gathered in the small dining area, a small bouquet of fresh flowers and succulents on each table. Hanging above the entrance was an arrangement of flowers and ivy, suspended from a mobile mounted to the ceiling. On the far wall, Victor spotted what he believed was called a 'living painting'; the canvas was covered in succulents and ivy, creating a swirl of greens, yellows, and purples.

“Wow,” breathed Yuuri. His brown eyes shone with wonder and excitement as he gazed around the restaurant.

“I'm glad you approve. I don't know what I would have done if you hated it,” teased Victor.

Yuuri brought his gaze back to meet Victor's, his expression unreadable. “I probably would have turned around and left.”

Victor's eyes widened in shock at the firmness in Yuuri's voice. How was he supposed to reply to that?

“Kidding,” replied Yuuri, his mouth curving into a small smile.

“Oh thank God,” breathed Victor, his shoulders sagging before he laughed.

Yuuri tried to stifle his own giggles as he turned his attention towards the menu. Victor briefly turned his attention to the menu, but found his gaze drifting towards Yuuri more often than not. He noticed little details about the younger man that he hadn't had time to appreciate before; like the way Yuuri's eyebrows drew together in the most adorable way when he was concentrating on something.

The waitress came by to take their drink orders and to explain the evening's specials. After a brief debate, Victor placed their order and handed over the menus to the waitress before turning his attention back to Yuuri. He watched as Yuuri continued to take in every detail of the restaurant as if he were trying to etch it into his memory. After a moment, Yuuri's gaze drifted back towards him and Victor felt something akin to pride when the younger man jumped slightly, a lovely pink dusting his cheeks as he averted his gaze again.

Just then, the waitress brought them their drinks and Victor could almost hear Yuuri silently thanking someone for the break in his attention. Bringing his glass of wine to his lips, Victor hummed as the heady scent of cherries and oak wafted from his glass.

“So Yuuri, tell me about yourself.”

Yuuri was just about to take a sip of his wine as well when he paused. “Like what?”

“Like, what are you hobbies? Where is your hometown?” He rested his chin on his hands as he leaned forward, eyes hooded. “I want to know everything about you.”

Yuuri flushed and took another sip of his wine, gaze cast downward as he mulled over Victor's request. Victor's gaze drifted to Yuuri's throat; he unconsciously licked his lips when Yuur's adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed his drink.

“Well...” Yuuri began as he set his glass down. “I'm originally from Hasetsu, Japan, but I've been living in Detroit for about five years now.” His gaze flickered up to Victor's for a moment. “What about you? I noticed you have a bit of an accent, so I'm guessing you're not originally from the States.”

“Hmm...you're quite observant, aren't you?” chuckled Victor. Yuuri bashfully lowered his gaze again and busied himself with his glass. “I'm originally from Saint Petersburg, but I've been living in the US for...awhile now.”

Yuuri hummed softly, his lips curving up into a small smile and his eyes sparkling. “Can I get that in writing? I have a bet to settle.”

Victor's brows furrowed as he tilted his head to the side. “A bet?”

“Ah, you see, Phichit – he's my best friend – told me there was no way I knew where you were from based solely on your accent. I bet him that I could and I was right.”

Victor leaned closer, his pulse quickening at the spark in Yuuri's eyes. “And what did you bet?”

Yuuri bit his lower lip, his cheeks reddening slightly under Victor's intense gaze. “He owes me five bucks,” he admitted.

For a moment, Victor stared at Yuuri, at a complete loss for words. Laughter bubbled up in his chest as the realization that a bet was actually made about his accent finally sunk in. Yuuri's melodious laughter greeted his ears, causing the tension between them to melt into nothingness.

Their food arrived shortly thereafter and they found an easy give and take to their conversation. Victor quickly found that he could listen to Yuuri talk all night. The way his eyes sparkled and he made animated hand gestures while explaining the thesis he was currently working on suddenly made linguistics seem incredibly interesting, though he'd never admit it.

Over dessert, Yuuri tried flipping the conversation towards Victor's personal life. His brows furrowed as he picked at the edible flowers decorating his plate before bringing his gaze up to meet Victor's.

“What about you? Does your family live in the States as well?” he finally asked, his voice faltering slightly.

Victor averted his gaze to the glass of wine he was swirling absentmindedly. Pausing, he took a sip of his wine as he gathered his thoughts. “My parents passed away a long time ago,” he said softly. A sharp exhale brought his gaze away from his drink.

“Oh, I...I'm so sorry Victor,” breathed Yuuri.

At the sight of the pained expression on Yuuri's face, Victor reached across their small table to clasp his hand in his own, a sad smile on his lips. “It's okay,” he assured. “I still have my memories of them, so that helps some.”

Yuuri squeezed his hand reassuringly, a glimmer of empathy in the depths of his chocolate brown eyes. He didn't say anything, but he didn't have to; Victor knew somehow that Yuuri understood his desire to drop the subject.

The bill paid and their stomachs full, Victor guided Yuuri across the street towards his car. He felt Yuuri stiffen for a moment as he placed his hand on the small of his back, but the younger man relaxed into his touch. As he opened the passenger door, he noticed a faint flush on Yuuri's cheeks as he ducked his head before sinking into the plush leather seat. Closing the door, Victor hurried around the car to the driver's side and slipped into the cabin.

The ride back to Yuuri's apartment was comfortable, punctuated by comments about how delicious their meal had been and how beautiful the full moon was as it hung over the silhouette of the city. Once they arrived at Yuuri's apartment building, Victor insisted on opening the door for Yuuri, much to his protests.

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't hold the door open for you?” he joked.

Yuuri flushed, muttering something under his breath as they walked towards the entrance to the building; Victor simply smiled to himself as he slipped his hand onto the small of Yuuri's back again. Yuuri turned to face Victor, shoving his hands in his coat pockets as he shyly dropped his gaze.

“I had a really good time tonight,” he murmured.

“I'm glad.” Victor reached out to brush Yuuri's bangs out of his eyes; he licked his lips when Yuuri raised his gaze to meet his. His fingers trailed down the side of Yuuri's jawline, thumb brushing against his cheek. “When can I see you again Yuuri?”

Yuuri swallowed, his gaze trained on Victor's. “Soon, I hope,” he breathed. His cheeks reddened, as if he hadn't expected to say that aloud. He took a step back, forcing Victor to drop his hand back to his side. “C-call me?”

“Absolutely,” promised Victor.

Victor watched as Yuuri shifted uncertainly for a moment before stilling, his eyes taking on a determined glint as he withdrew his hands from his pockets. He took a step forward, placing his hands on Victor's shoulders before rising on his tiptoes to plant a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Good night Victor,” he whispered.

Before Victor could react, Yuuri had already hurried inside the building, the door closing behind him. Victor stared at the door, fingers reaching up to his cheek to brush across the still tingling skin. A gust of wind blew, rustling his overcoat as he tore his gaze away from the doorway, brows furrowed in deep thought. He couldn't bring himself to be disappointed in the fact that Yuuri had left him standing outside his apartment.

The only thing he could think about was how his heart was hammering against his rib cage in a way it hadn't since he had been turned all those years ago.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap guys, I honestly did not expect this kind of response to this fic. You guys are the best and I would personally give you all baked goods in thanks if I could. I did get a comment from someone (sorry, I'm not sure who!) commenting on how windy Detroit is and I just wanted to say that Detroit is hella windy. Think of it like a slightly smaller Chicago because of the winds coming in from the lake, especially in late winter/early spring, which is when I imagined this fic taking place. I hope that helps clear a few things up!
> 
> As always, huge thanks go to my lovely beta [@spicenee](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Spicenee/pseuds/Spicenee) who has spent tireless hours helping me figure out where the plot should go, comedy bits for later on (they're going to be hilarious, I swear), and being the world's best support system. I honestly wouldn't be this far without you!

Closing the door to his apartment behind him, Yuuri slipped his shoes off before hanging up his coat. Padding into his bedroom, he undid the top button of his shirt and exhaled shakily. Falling onto his bed, he shivered slightly as he brushed his fingers over his lips. He wasn't sure how he was able to act so confident throughout the night, but he was thankful that he hadn't let on to how nervous he truly was. He smiled when he remembered Victor's stunned expression after he had kissed him good night.

“Yuuri?” came a quiet voice from his doorway.

Pushing himself up, Yuuri turned to face his door and found Phichit watching him expectantly. He scooted over to the head of his small bed and Phichit wasted no time in flopping onto his bed, grabbing a pillow to hug to his chest, his eyes sparkling with intrigue.

“So? How did your date with TSG go?” he prompted.

Yuuri cocked a brow in confusion. “TSG?”

“Time Share Guy,” said Phichit, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Yuuri laughed, shaking his head at his friend. “It was fine.”

“Just fine?”

“Fine.”

Phichit pouted, hunching over the pillow he clutched to his chest. “I feel like you're holding out on me, Yuuri. It's been ages since I've been on a date; I need details to keep me from going insane!”

Sighing, Yuuri looked at Phichit fondly. “Alright, fine.”

Phichit grinned and wiggled excitedly as Yuuri detailed his date with Victor. He left a few details out, such as the fact that Victor's parents had passed away, but otherwise told Phichit everything. Phichit hung on his every word, only interrupting now and then with questions about some minor details. When he was finished, Phichit hummed in thought.

“So when are you going to see him again?”

Yuuri flushed. “I'm not sure, but I told him to call me.”

“Well look at you, acting all coy and hard to get.”

Grabbing the nearest pillow, Yuuri hit Phichit as hard as he could. “Don't patronize me.”

“As if I would ever do that to my best friend!” gasped Phichit, holding a hand to his heart in an attempt to feign distress.

They stared at each other for a moment before dissolving into laughter. Yuuri flopped onto his side, hugging a pillow to his chest as he sighed dreamily. “I hope he calls soon.”

“I'm sure he will,” promised Phichit. He reached over to brush Yuuri's bangs out of his eyes, smiling warmly; the motions were familial and comforting to Yuuri. “And if he doesn't, then we'll just have to kill him.”

He paused at the horrified look Yuuri shot him.

“Oh alright,” sighed Phichit. “We'll just maim him.”

Yuuri hummed noncommittally, enjoying the feeling of Phichit's fingers carding through his hair. A thought popped into his mind and he grinned up at his friend. “By the way, you owe me five bucks.”

Phichit narrowed his eyes at Yuuri, his hand stilling. “There's no way you were right.”

“Saint Petersburg.” Yuuri snickered at the indignant look his friend shot him and held out a hand. “Pay up.”

Muttering to himself about what a terrible friend Yuuri was and how he should never have made a bet with a linguistics major, Phichit dug out his wallet and fished out a five dollar bill before throwing it at Yuuri.

 

* * *

 

Victor paced the length of his living room, brows furrowed in thought as he tapped his index finger against his lips. Since the moment Yuuri bid him goodnight, Victor couldn't get the man out of his head. Placing a hand over his heart, Victor was relieved to find that it had slowed to its normal, nearly non-existent rhythm. The realization that there was something about Yuuri that had woken something within him was frightening; the unfamiliarity of this feeling in his chest was worrisome.

Not wanting to be alone with his thoughts any longer, he pulled out his phone and dialed the only person he knew he could confide in.

“What do you want?” came the surly drawl across the phone line.

“Is that any way to answer your phone Yuri?” pouted Victor.

“Do you have any idea what time it is here?” Yuri waited for Victor to answer. “It's seven o'clock in the morning, you asshole.”

Scratching the back of his neck, Victor chuckled at the teen's angry tone. “Ah, sorry about that Yuri. I keep forgetting about the time difference.”

Victor heard a frustrated sigh over the line and he could picture Yuri pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to reign in his anger.

“Well? What's so important that you need to call me at this ungodly hour?”

Plopping down on his sofa, Victor stared at the ceiling as he tried to piece together his fragmented thoughts into something coherent. “Remember that college student I told you about?”

“The one you failed to glamour?”

“That's the one. Well...how do I put this? We sort of went on a date tonight,” admitted Victor.

The phone line went silent and for a moment, Victor thought his phone had disconnected the call. The sound of a sharp intake of breath made him wince.

“You did _what_?” hissed Yuri. Even through the phone, Victor could almost feel the rage that was surely emanating from the young vampire. “Victor, you know that's against the rules! What the fuck are you thinking?!”

Carding his fingers through his hair, Victor sighed in frustration. “That's the problem; I'm _not_ thinking. But Yuri, if you only saw him...”

“No, you're not going to drag me into this mess you've made for yourself!”

“My heart started beating,” said Victor quietly, his mouth going dry at the thought. Yuri grew quiet, the tension in the air causing Victor to grow uneasy.

“Shit,” whispered Yuri. “Are you sure?”

“As sure as the day I died.” He laughed at that; a quiet, hollow sound. “There's something about him, Yuri. I can't put my finger on it, but there's definitely something different when it comes to him.”

“It could be nothing, Victor. Maybe you're just overthinking this.”

“Maybe.” Victor chewed on his lower lip in thought. “It's hard to explain, but I feel...at ease around him. Like there's something more to this than I can see on my own.”

Yuri clucked his tongue disapprovingly, his voice quiet. “You'd better figure it out soon.”

Victor's mouth curved into a smile at Yuri's tone. “If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're worried about me Yuratchka.”

“I'm not – Get your shit together, Nikiforov!” spluttered Yuri.

Victor chuckled as the younger vampire hung up on him, his phone beeping in his ear. Shutting off the screen, he laid down on the sofa, one hand behind his head cradling his neck as he stared at the ceiling. His brow furrowed as Yuuri entered his thoughts for what seemed like the millionth time that evening.

He pictured his warm, brown eyes with flecks of gold around the irises, his endearing smile and infectious laughter. Holding his hand in front of him, he gazed at his fingers, recalling the warmth of Yuuri's hand beneath his own, so different from his cold touches. Sighing, he closed his eyes and revisited his memories of his kiss with Yuuri for what was likely the thousandth time that day.

His lips had been soft and pliable under his own, the skin warm and inviting. While his breath had tasted of alcohol, it hadn't been unpleasant. His chest ached with the thought of Yuuri's lips bruised and swollen from kissing him, his dark eyes half-lidded as he trembled under Victor's touches.

Victor grimaced as his heart fluttered in his chest at the thought, his breath catching in his throat. Covering his eyes with his forearm, he exhaled shakily.

“Shit,” he breathed. “I'm in trouble, aren't I?”

* * *

Yuuri stood outside his apartment building, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smile as he waved goodbye to Victor. They had been on several dates in the past few weeks – five, to be exact, but it wasn't like Yuuri was counting or anything – and slowly but surely, Yuuri felt some of his nervousness dissipate.

Sure, Victor could be a little too touchy at times, but he was becoming accustomed to the sensation of fingertips grazing against his hands and the strong but sure pressure of Victor's hand on the small of his back as he guided him alongside himself. Yuuri's cheeks flushed as he thought about how much he secretly enjoyed those fleeting moments of intimacy, as innocent as they were.

When Victor was out of sight, Yuuri turned on his heel and entered the apartment building. His mind wandered back to their date as he trekked up the stairs to the third floor; Victor continued to find smaller, more intimate restaurants with exquisite food, the likes of which Yuuri knew he could never afford to enjoy on his own. At the end of one of their evenings out, he had meekly suggested that they could go somewhere more casual but Victor had balked at the idea.

_How am I supposed to enchant you if not with good wine and food?_  he had exclaimed, though his tone was more playful than not. Yuuri chuckled when he thought back to how dramatic Victor could be, but his theatrics were more endearing than anything.

Pulling out his keys, Yuuri unlocked the door to his apartment and entered, toeing his shoes off as he closed the door behind him.

“I'm home,” he called.

Shrugging his coat off, he tossed it on the back of a kitchen chair as he headed towards the living room. He smiled at the sight of Phichit curled up on the sofa, clad in sweats and his attention on his phone, the tv humming softly in the background. Phichit's gaze flicked towards him as he entered the room; Yuuri suddenly felt uneasy about the devilish glint in his friend's eyes.

“Oh good, you're home!” Phichit moved his legs to make room for Yuuri before patting the cushion beside him. “C'mere, I have something to show you.”

Warily, Yuuri sat beside his friend, his narrowed gaze flickering between Phichit's wide grin and the phone in his hand. “Phichit, what did you –“

“I found his Instagram,” came the breathless confession.

“Found whose Instagram?”

“The Pope's,” retorted Phichit as he dramatically rolled his eyes. “I found TSG's Instagram account!”

“You did not.”

Yuuri blinked in surprise as Phichit shoved his phone in his face. “Look! It's totally him.”

Taking the phone from Phichit's hands, Yuuri stared in disbelief as he scrolled through the feed of photos. It was, in fact, Victor's Instagram account and he licked his lips as he debated whether this would be considered wrong of him to continue looking. Curiosity won in the end and he continued scrolling through the photos, his eyes glued to the tiny screen in front of him.

There were photos of famous buildings in Europe and throughout the United States, many of them with Victor posing in front of them, a brilliant smile on his face. A few were of him at the gym and Yuuri felt his cheeks flush as his gaze lingered on the defined muscles of Victor's back in one particular photo. He quickly scrolled past several others that featured Victor in varying degrees of undress – posing poolside seemed to be a favorite pastime of his – but stopped at a photo of Victor posing with someone else in front of a colorful building in Moscow.

All of Victor's photos thus far had been of only him, so Yuuri stared at the photo of Victor and a young teen. Victor was smiling widely, cerulean eyes glimmering excitedly, his arm slung around the slender shoulders of the surly boy beside him. The teen had blond hair obscuring his face, but Yuuri felt his pulse jump at the piercing green eyes glaring at him through the photo.

“Who is that? One of Victor's friends?” asked Phichit quietly as he leaned his head against Yuuri's shoulder.

“I don't know,” admitted Yuuri. “He doesn't talk about himself much, but maybe he's related to him somehow?”

Phichit hummed in thought and Yuuri bit his lower lip as he contemplated the possibilities of who the teen in the photo could be. It seemed as though they knew each other well if Victor's relaxed pose was any indication, but he had never mentioned having siblings before in the few times his past was brought up.

Yuuri's eyes widened as a thought struck him.

“Phichit, how did you find his Instagram account?” Yuuri narrowed his eyes in suspicion as his friend laughed nervously.

“You, uh, mentioned his last name once and it's not a very common name so I Googled him and...” Phichit gestured unhelpfully at the phone in Yuuri's hand.

“When did I mention his last name?”

“A few weeks ago. You said you heard it when he asked about a reservation or something.”

Groaning, Yuuri sank back into the sofa and let the phone fall onto the cushion beside him in defeat. “I swear to God, you're going to be the death of me one of these days.”

“Can't you just applaud my researching skills and thank me for finding his Instagram for you?” pouted Phichit. He bumped Yuuri's shoulder as he retrieved his phone. “By the way, congrats on landing a total babe. Do you think he has any cousins that are single?”

“Phichit...”

“There we go!” Phichit laughed gleefully as he pressed something on his screen with a flourish.

Yuuri narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “What did you do?”

“I followed him, obviously.”

“You can't!”

“But Yuuri, how else am I supposed to perform my best friend duties by keeping tabs on this guy if I don't follow him?” asked Phichit innocently.

“You really don't –“

Phichit's phone chimed with a notification.

“Oh cool! He followed me back!”

Yuuri covered his face with his hands and silently prayed for the Earth to open up and swallow him whole.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I swear there is a legit reason as to why Victor has an Instagram account that is both hilarious and science-y. We'll be getting to the answer to that in another chapter or two, so hold tight!
> 
> Also, shameless promotion time: come hang out with me on [tumblr](http://www.mayelisa.tumblr.com/)! Feel free to send me questions or comments about this fic or whatever you want! :D


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry for how long it took me to update this! Things got a little hectic and to be honest, I struggled a little bit with this chapter. I'm hoping that the content makes up for the late update and I'm happy to say I'm already pretty far along with the next one, so hopefully the wait won't be terribly long.
> 
> A quick side note, after an extensive amount of research, I found that the Detroit Institute of Art holds free events every Friday, so I figured that would be an excellent place for a college student to go on a date because...well, it's free. Also, the painting I'm talking about is [GLADIOLI by Claude Monet](http://www.dia.org/object-info/6d0dac16-6fa4-47b4-9d48-0a7303cd6476.aspx), who is one of my favorite artists ever. I see a lot of myself in Yuuri, so I like to think that he'd enjoy his paintings as well.
> 
> ALSO, please note the rating change to Mature! Mature content is in the last scene, so don't say I didn't warn you.
> 
> And as always, thank you so much to my lovely beta [@spicenee](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Spicenee/pseuds/Spicenee) for looking this over and helping me with it. I'm going to shamelessly promote her new OtaPliRoy fic [Taste of Paradise](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10649454), so you should go check that out!

Laughter escaped Yuuri's lips, his cheeks flushing as Victor's nuzzled against the nape of his neck. His heart skipped a beat as Victor's silken hair brushed against his cheek, the scent of his cologne wafting around him.

“V-Victor, stop, that tickles!” Steeling his resolve, Yuuri pulled away from Victor's embrace; the fact that Victor's arm was draped over the console of his car made it easier than he had anticipated.

Victor pouted. “But Yuuri –“ His eyes widened as Yuuri pressed his finger against his lips.

“I have class in the morning.”

“So skip it.”

Yuuri smiled apologetically, the suggestion tempting. “I have to turn in the first draft of my paper tomorrow.”

Victor took hold of Yuuri's hand and laced their fingers together. “Can't you say you're sick and email it to them?”

“Keep talking like that and I might think about it.”

Victor's eyes lit up, his lips curving into a blinding smile. “Really?”

Shaking his head, Yuuri laughed softly as he squeezed Victor's hand. “I wish I could, but we have to turn it in in person.” Slipping his hand from Victor's, he reached for the door handle despite already missing the feeling of Victor's hand in his.

Yuuri pushed open the door and just as he was about to slide out of the car, he turned back to face Victor. He bit his lip as a sense of uncertainty pooled in the pit of his stomach. “Hey Victor?”

“Hmm?”

“F-for our next date, do you think that I could pick where we go?”

Yuuri's held his breath as he waited for Victor to answer him, his pulse racing in anticipation. Victor's eyes widened in surprise for the briefest of moments before his gaze softened and a wide, heart-shaped smile spread across his face.

“Of course!” Victor grasped his hands in his, squeezing them in his excitement. “My first night out in Detroit, planned exclusively by Yuuri!”

Yuuri laughed at Victor's enthusiasm, his cheeks flushing when Victor ran his thumb over Yuuri's knuckles in light circles. “I guess the pressure is really on now,” he teased. “Hope I don't disappoint you.”

“Oh Yuuri, nothing you do could disappoint me,” murmured Victor.

Victor's thumb stilled against Yuuri's knuckles, his gaze hooded as he leaned towards Yuuri.

“R-right, I...I should get going so I can, you know, plan our date,” stammered Yuuri. His face felt as though he had been lit afire as he quickly kissed Victor on the cheek before sliding out of his grasp. Turning his gaze back to Victor's, he smiled shyly. “Call me?”

“Always,” promised Victor.

Slipping out of the car, Yuuri waved before shutting the door behind him. He watched as Victor pulled away from the apartment building, waiting for the tail lights to fade before turning back to his building with a sigh.

 

* * *

 

After an agonizing week of waiting and wondering what Yuuri could be planning, Victor felt his mouth grow dry with anticipation when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled the device out of his pocket, nearly dropping it in his haste. A wave of relief washed over him like a balm, soothing his nerves as he read the message.

**DIA @ 6 tomorrow?**

He smiled to himself as he imagined Yuuri biting his lower lip, his leg bouncing up and down as he awaited his answer. He quickly typed out his response, saying he'd be looking forward to it and adding possibly what would be considered one too many emojis before hitting the send button.

**See you then.**

Before he could even begin to coordinate his outfit for the evening, his phone buzzed again with another message. He laughed aloud at the message, thinking that Yuuri already knew him too well.

**Wear something casual. No suits.**

He typed out a short message, jokingly accusing Yuuri of spying on him and smiled when he received an indignant response. The two texted back and forth for a bit before Yuuri ended their conversation, saying he had to get back to work before his boss caught him hiding in the break room.

Turning his attention back to his closet, Victor tapped his finger against his cheek in thought. Yuuri told him not to wear a suit, but if he were honest with himself, the vast majority of the clothing he had acquired over the years were suits of one kind or another. He convinced himself that he was simply dressing the part of a door to door salesman, but he secretly enjoyed boost that a well tailored suit lent his confidence.

Shoving hangers aside, he bypassed the varying shades of blues, blacks, and grays of his suit collection and instead focused on the comparatively small collection of casual items in his closet. He frowned as he sorted through the collection of sweaters, jackets, and jeans, nothing quite catching his eye.

After spending more time than he would ever willingly admit to, Victor decided on his outfit, nodding in approval to himself. Setting the clothing aside, he nestled himself amongst the plush pillows on his bed as he sighed contently.

He spent the rest of the day asking Yuri what he thought Yuuri might be planning for their date (Yuri threatened to block his number if he kept asking, but Victor persisted) and daydreaming.

 

* * *

 

Looking around, Yuuri nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other as people milled about the lobby of the art museum. The stark white walls and stone floors contrasted against the paintings and sculptures on display, drawing people towards the works of art.

After much debate, he had finally narrowed his ideas down to a couple of places before he presented them to Phichit for input. The only suggestion they could both agree on was the Institute of Art; it was reasonably priced, open late on Fridays, and one of the places Yuuri frequented with Phichit.

A tap on his shoulder startled him out of his thoughts; he glanced over his shoulder and sighed with relief when he realized it was Victor. He felt his cheeks flush slightly when he allowed his gaze to rake over Victor. Even in casual clothing, he managed to look like he came straight from a photo shoot; his jeans and white t-shirt clung to all the right places without being too much and his pale skin tone was accented by a charcoal gray trench coat. Yuuri suddenly felt self-conscious in his worn sneakers, jeans, plain button down shirt and over sized cardigan.

“You're so jumpy tonight Yuuri,” teased Victor, his lips curving up into a smile.

Yuuri's ears burned from embarrassment as he stepped out from under Victor's shadow. “I'm not – You just –“ He huffed and weakly shoved Victor's shoulder. “I wasn't expecting you to sneak up on me like that,” he muttered.

Victor rubbed his arm, feigning distress before his resolve broke and he burst into a fit of laughter. “I'm sorry Yuuri. I just couldn't help it.” He linked his arm in Yuuri's, pulling him flush against his side. “So, what are we doing tonight?”

Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, Yuuri tried to ignore the goose pimples that pricked at his arms. “W-well, I thought we could take a look around at the exhibits before the live performances start.”

“Live performances?”

Glancing around the lobby, Yuuri bit his lower lip as he tried to steady his nerves under Victor's questioning gaze. “Every spring the Institute hosts live performances every Friday night. Sometimes it's local bands or musicians that specialize in historical instruments.” He brought his gaze up to Victor's, attempting to read his expression. “Tonight it's a local dance troupe that partnered with a jazz band that usually performs at clubs downtown.”

Yuuri held his breath in anticipation as Victor glanced around the lobby. His eyes narrowed as he took in the banners advertising different exhibits and upcoming events before tugging Yuuri closer, his grip tightening on Yuuri's bicep. He turned his gaze back to Yuuri's, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he smiled brightly.

“You put a lot of thought into this, didn't you?”

Ducking his head, Yuuri blushed. Instead of answering, he started walking towards the ticket booth, half-dragging a laughing Victor behind him. After purchasing their tickets, they found themselves standing in the entryway to the exhibits; one wing led to historical artwork while the other led to more modern works and sculptures.

“Where did you want to start?” he asked.

“Hmm... Where do you usually start?”

“Phichit and I usually start with the oldest paintings and work our way up to the more modern pieces.” Yuuri laughed softly to himself. “I don't really understand modern artwork so I tend to stick with the classics.”

“Then let's start there.” Holding his hand out, Victor winked at him. “Lead the way, Yuuri.”

Rolling his eyes, Yuuri grasped Victor's hand in his own and the two set out into the museum. They wove their way around the people milling about, Victor occasionally rushing up to a sculpture or ornately framed painting of noblemen and all of their belongings, his eyes sparkling. Yuuri watched Victor flit from one painting to another, a small smile gracing his lips when he saw that Victor was enjoying himself.

While Victor was preoccupied with enthusiastically talking to another patron about one of the sculptures from the early 1600's that was on display, Yuuri headed towards his favorite section of the exhibit. He exhaled slowly as he found himself greeted by the familiar paintings. His gaze was drawn to his favorite in the gallery and he soon became entranced by the bold brush strokes and how the bright colors played off one another. He sat on the small bench placed before the painting, content to take in every detail he could while he waited for Victor.

“Monet, huh?” came a low voice in his ear.

“Mm. It's my favorite,” murmured Yuuri, his gaze still fixed on the painting.

Victor sat on the bench beside him, scooting close enough that their thighs were pressed against one another. Yuuri's heart skipped at the contact and he curled his hands into the hem of his shirt in an attempt to ground himself. He heard Victor hum to himself as he surveyed the painting, a nostalgic expression crossing his face.

“You know, this painting was done right before his wife Camille fell ill. They had just moved back to Paris after escaping the war and I think it was the happiest Monet was for a long time. After Camille passed away, he just wasn't the same.”

Yuuri's brow furrowed as he looked at Victor. His gaze was still directed towards the painting, his mouth drawn in a thin line as he seemed to struggle with whatever thoughts were passing through his mind.

“How can you say for sure?” questioned Yuuri. “It's not in any book I've read about his works and it's not like you were there or anything.”

If Yuuri had blinked, he would have missed the way Victor stiffened slightly before relaxing again. A nervous laugh escaped him as he ran a hand through his hair. “Ahh... You've got me there, Yuuri! Of course there's no way I was there when he painted this.”

“You're hiding something.”

Victor turned to look at him, eyes wide in surprise at Yuuri's accusatory tone. “What do you mean?”

“You're doing that thing,” supplied Yuuri, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“What thing?”

“That thing where you run your hand through your hair. I've noticed that you do it whenever you're nervous about something.”

“Oh?” Yuuri nearly squeaked in surprise as Victor leaned in, his silver hair falling across his eyes as he surveyed Yuuri with renewed interest. “Who's to say that I'm not nervous sitting here with you?”

Flushing, Yuuri ducked his head and bumped Victor's shoulder. “That was super cheesy.”

“But it made you blush,” teased Victor.

Groaning, Yuuri stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets. He could feel the tips of his ears burning and he knew that his face was probably as red as the flowers in the painting before him. Victor chuckled behind him and Yuuri glanced at him over his shoulder, his mouth cracking into a soft smile.

“Come on, we have more to see before the show starts.”

Victor beamed at him and bounced to his feet before following Yuuri through the halls. Without a word, Yuuri slipped his hand into Victor's and laced their fingers together.

 

* * *

 

Victor wasn't entirely sure how he found himself in this situation, but he sure as hell wasn't going to complain about it. Shortly after the show started at the Institute of Art, Victor had leaned over and suggested they leave and head somewhere more exciting. He was surprised when Yuuri had agreed with him, but gleefully trailed behind Yuuri as they snuck out of the auditorium, giggling like two children skipping class. Soon enough, they found their way to a small bar nearby, passing the time by tossing back drinks and chatting about anything and everything.

He felt Yuuri shudder under his touch before pressing his body closer to him, successfully bringing Victor's thoughts back to the situation at hand. Yuuri's movements were unsteady due to the alcohol he had consumed, but Victor still found himself being swept away in the sensation of fingertips brushing against his collarbone.

Nestling his nose in the crook of Yuuri's neck, Victor inhaled deeply to steady himself. “Yuuri, you should head inside.”

“Come with me.”

Victor swore he was losing his hearing, because there was no possible way that Yuuri – shy, uncertain Yuuri – was inviting him inside his apartment. He pulled away just enough that he could look at Yuuri directly.

“What?”

Yuuri giggled, his cheeks pleasantly flushed as he wrapped his arms around Victor's neck and all but hung from his shoulders. “Come inside with me, Victor.” His caramel-brown eyes sparkled in the dim lighting as his mouth split into the brightest smile Victor had ever seen. “Please, Victor? _Pleeeaaaase_?”

Victor would have never considered himself a weak man but in that moment he realized that he was, in fact, incredibly weak to Yuuri's wishes. If Yuuri asked, he would move heaven and earth, collect the stars in the sky above and even lasso the moon if it would make him happy.

Exhaling shakily, Victor bumped his nose against Yuuri's. “Don't blame me for whatever happens,” he whispered.

“What's going to happen?” asked Yuuri, his eyes wide and so, so innocent.

Victor shook his head, his lips curved in a wry smile. “Nothing.”

After a moment of thought, Yuuri nodded in agreement, as if that was all the reasoning he needed to hear. “So will you come in?”

“I'd love to.”

Grinning from ear to ear, Yuuri disentangled himself from around Victor's neck and spun on his heel towards the doorway. He stumbled a bit on the uneven pavement; Victor snaked his arm around Yuuri's waist to steady him and he was met with another blinding smile.

As they made their way up to the third floor, Victor swallowed thickly, his pulse stuttering in anticipation. His hand remained on Yuuri's hip, the heat from his skin burning into his fingertips.

Yuuri leaned against Victor's chest as he fumbled for his keys; Victor dipped his head and brushed his lips against the shell of Yuuri's ear. He smiled as Yuuri shivered at the touch just before the held up his keys in triumph.

“Found them!” he cried.

Brows furrowed in concentration, Yuuri made several attempts to unlock the door, becoming increasingly flustered when Victor's breath fanned across his neck as he chuckled at Yuuri's unsteadiness. Finally, he succeeded and swung the door open proudly before stumbling through the doorway. Victor closed the door behind him, his gaze traveling around the small apartment. The kitchen was small, a few dishes sitting in the sink waiting to be washed. A small breakfast bar separated the kitchen from the living area and to the right, a hallway led to what Victor could only assume would be the bedrooms and bathroom.

Yuuri tossed his keys into a small ceramic bowl beside the door, the metal ringing out harshly in the quiet apartment. Victor winced at the sound. Someone shifted on the couch with a groan; Victor held his breath as he waited for whoever it was to settle back into unconsciousness.

“Yuuri, who –“

“Shhh, it's fine,” whispered Yuuri through his giggles, holding a finger up to his lips. He tiptoed into the living room, muttering “It's fine, it's fine” under his breath, though Victor wasn't sure if he was trying to reassure himself or the person snoring on the couch.

With the steadiness of someone who has perfected the art of sneaking in late, Yuuri gingerly plucked the laptop off of the sofa, placing it on the coffee table to his right. As he was turning back towards the couch, Yuuri stopped and stared at something on the table, his eyes widening.

“Oh my God,” he breathed.

Victor tensed as the words greeted his ears. What if Yuuri realized what was happening and decided he didn't want Victor after all?

Yuuri directed his gaze towards Victor, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he held up his prize before whispering, “Phichit bought pizza!”

Victor released the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding as he watched Yuuri take a bite out of the cold slice of pizza. He licked his lips when Yuuri all but moaned in pleasure, the sight of his plump lips closing around the half eaten piece of food again causing Victor to nearly let his handle on his control slip. Closing the distance between himself and Yuuri, Victor wrapped an arm around Yuuri's waist, pulling him against him as he plucked the slice of pizza out of his grasp.

“I wasn't finished,” he huffed, his lips turning out into an adorable pout.

Chuckling at how adorable Yuuri was, Victor nipped at his ear, eliciting a gasp from the man in his arms. “Is that so?”

Yuuri nodded, the stain on his cheeks deepening as he relaxed in Victor's grasp. “Aren't you hungry, Victor?”

“I am,” hummed Victor, his lips tracing along Yuuri's jawline. “But for something better than pizza.”

Yuuri opened his mouth to respond, but was silenced when Victor claimed his lips in a searing kiss. Victor pulled Yuuri flush against him, fingers tangling in his soft locks as he deepened the kiss. He reluctantly pulled away when his lungs began to burn, begging him for fresh oxygen. A sense of pride swelled in his chest as he took in Yuuri, with his disheveled hair and glasses askew, breaths coming in gasps.

Phichit stirred behind them and Yuuri tore his gaze away to stare at his friend, a sigh escaping him when Phichit rolled over and fell back asleep. He inhaled sharply when Victor's lips met his pulse point, teeth grazing at the delicate flesh.

“B-bedroom,” he breathed, sending a desperate plea to Victor.

Victor hummed in approval and detached himself from Yuuri long enough to be led down the hallway and into his quaint bedroom. Yuuri leaned against the door, his blush spreading down his neck and up to the tips of his ears. His gaze darted about the room, never quite settling on Victor as he licked his lips in uncertainty.

Taking a step forward, Victor cupped Yuuri's cheek in his hand, the pad of his thumb brushing against his cheekbone. Yuuri jumped at the touch, his gaze finally meeting Victor's. His gaze softened as he relaxed into Victor's touch, the tension leaving his shoulders.

“We'll only go as far as you want to Yuuri,” murmured Victor.

Yuuri nodded as Victor gently took his glasses off and placed them on the bedside table. Brushing some of his hair away from his face, Victor met Yuuri in another kiss, sweeter and less hungry this time. Their lips met and departed in chaste kisses, Victor dragging his lips down Yuuri's jawline. Yuuri's hands twisted into the fabric of Victor's shirt as he tilted his head to the side, a breathy sigh escaping his lips.

Groaning, Victor suppressed the urge to sink his fangs into Yuuri's pulse point; his grip on Yuuri's hips tightened as he struggled with the idea of Yuuri baring his neck to him, even if it was done subconsciously. Not bothering to separate himself from Yuuri, Victor spun around and guided Yuuri towards his bed. The back of his knees hit the mattress and the two went toppling onto the soft blankets.

Yuuri blinked in surprise, his eyes wide as Victor stifled his laughter. After a moment, Yuuri's brows furrowed as he gripped onto the collar of Victor's trench coat, a hint of mischief glinting in his eyes. Victor's breath rushed out of his lungs when Yuuri crashed his lips against his, teeth clacking against each other in the impact.

Victor was at a loss when Yuuri nipped at his lower lips, demanding entrance before deepening the kiss. Victor choked on a moan when Yuuri's tongue brushed against his own, blood pounding in his ears. Yuuri's hands roughly pushed Victor's coat off his shoulders, nails scraping at the soft hair on the nape of his neck. Without a second thought Victor shrugged his coat off, tossing the restricting fabric to the floor.

Yuuri hummed appreciatively, his fingers trailing across Victor's muscled back, leaving fire in their wake. Victor shuddered at the fleeting touches, his hand sneaking underneath Yuuri's shirt and splaying across his abdomen. Without breaking the kiss, he undid the buttons of Yuuri's shirt and pushed the fabric aside, exposing his chest.

His eyes raked over Yuuri's trim torso, appreciating the slight softness of his hips contrasting with how toned he was. Yuuri bit his lower lip, eyes hooded and pupils dilated with want. Victor bit back a groan at the sight.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he murmured.

Yuuri shook his head, the corners of his lips quirking into a smile. He reached up, fingertips grazing Victor's cheek before he sunk his fingers into Victor's hair. Pulling Victor close, Yuuri grazed his teeth along his earlobe, a low moan sounding in his throat as he pressed his hips fully against Victor's.

Victor inhaled sharply as he desperately tried to keep a grip on what little remained of his control. Fire coursed through his veins, his own desire aching for more – more friction, more of Yuuri. His hands gripped Yuuri's hips tightly, trying desperately to still his movements. Burying his nose in the crook of Yuuri's neck, he inhaled deeply in an attempt to steady himself.

“Yuuri,” he warned, his voice thick with barely restrained desire. “If you don't stop, I won't be able to control myself.”

Victor bit his lip to fight back a moan of his own as Yuuri rutted against him, desperate for any kind of friction. Hot breath fanned against his ear as Yuuri's lips brushed against his neck.

“Victor,” he moaned, hips rutting against Victor's again. Victor screwed his eyes shut as he felt the last threads of his control slip from his grasp. “ _Please Victor._ ”

“ _Fuck_ , Yuuri,” he breathed.

Letting that last shred of control fall to the wayside, Victor ground his hips against Yuuri's, tearing a moan from the other man's lips. Licking his lips, Victor's gaze settled on Yuuri's pulse point. He swallowed thickly before running his tongue along the fluttering pulse, eliciting a shiver from Yuuri. Running his fingers through Yuuri's hair, he gripped at the strands, tugging Yuuri's face away and exposing the curve of his neck.

He sensed Yuuri's pulse jump as he laved the area with his tongue, lips pulling at the delicate skin. One of his fangs pricked the skin and Victor moaned when the droplet of blood that formed exploded on his tongue. Not able to wait a second longer, he sunk his fangs into Yuuri's neck and began to drink.

Pleasure coursed through Victor, the sweetness of Yuuri's blood singing in his veins. Yuuri moaned beneath him, eyes closed and breathing labored as he continued to rut against Victor mindlessly. He heard the sharp intake of air enter Yuuri's lungs as he slipped his hand into Yuuri's pants, fingers curling around his length. Yuuri melted into his touch, chanting Victor's name like a prayer as Victor skillfully stroked him closer and closer to the edge of pleasure. Victor felt Yuuri's body tense, a cry of pleasure ripping through his chest as he came.

When his thirst was satiated, Victor laved the area, healing the puncture wounds before placing gentle kisses along Yuuri's neck and jawline. Yuuri's breathing was becoming less labored as he came down from his high, his eyes fluttering open to gaze at Victor. Victor pressed a kiss to Yuuri's temple and the man sighed, eyes drifting shut once again as sleep welcomed him into its warm embrace.

Victor sat beside him as his breathing evened out, a slight flush lingering on his cheeks. As he slept, Victor took in the way his lashes rested against his cheekbones, the way his lips would part ever-so-slightly as he sighed in his sleep, the way his brows would furrow slightly before relaxing once again.

Reluctantly, Victor tore himself away from Yuuri's side, picked up his coat and made his way towards the door. He paused, hand on the doorknob, as he glanced at Yuuri's sleeping form one last time. With a sigh, he opened the door and slipped out of the room, the door closing with a soft click behind him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops!
> 
> Come hang out with me over on [tumblr!](http://www.mayelisa.tumblr.com/)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *stumbles in a month late with Starbucks* Sorry for the wait everyone! For some reason I really struggled with the last scene of the chapter and ended up rewriting it several times before my beta and I were satisfied with it. I hope its up to everyone's expectations!
> 
> As always, thank you to the most awesomest beta in the whole wide world, [@spicenee](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Spicenee/pseuds/Spicenee)! I don't know what I would do without her! She is the bestest person in the world! <333

“Well look who's finally decided to join the living.”

Yuuri peered at Phichit blearily from the hallway, grunting in lieu of a proper response. Yawning, he scratched the back of his neck and shuffled into the kitchen, drawn in by the scent of freshly brewed coffee. His hair was rumpled from sleep, his eyelids heavy despite sleeping until late morning. His mouth was dry, a testament to his drinking the night before, and he was sure he looked a right mess.

Pouring himself a cup of coffee, he set about adding cream and too much sugar, ignoring the knowing look Phichit was sending him from across the breakfast bar.

“Long night?” questioned Phichit, his eyes glinting with mirth.

Holding a hand up to stop his inevitable questioning, Yuuri glared at his best friend. “Before we start this, can I at least have my coffee first?”

“My, my, someone's cranky this morning.” Phichit sighed at the look Yuuri shot him, gesturing towards the coffee cup in Yuuri's hand.

Yuuri leaned against the kitchen counter, gaze directed towards the mug in his hand. He sipped the hot liquid slowly, his thoughts wandering back to the night before.

The date had gone well, hadn't it? Victor seemed to enjoy himself, and sure, Yuuri may have gotten drunk again and maybe things had gone a little too far, but would that really make Victor sneak out in the middle of the night?

Biting his lower lip, Yuuri pushed the negative thoughts to the back of his mind. He tried to reassure himself by mentally going through the reasons why Victor would have left so suddenly: he had a meeting, he had a previous engagement early in the morning, he wasn't comfortable sleeping over.

With each excuse Yuuri came up with, his anxiety whispered in the back of his mind, reminding him that he could make all the excuses in the world but it wouldn't change the fact that Victor had left.

He left without a word and the uncertainty of what that meant was driving Yuuri crazy with doubt.

Yuuri was brought out of his spiraling thoughts when Phichit waved a hand in his face. Blinking, Yuuri noticed the look of worry on Phichit's face and shook his head to clear his thoughts, taking another sip of coffee.

“Everything okay?” asked Phichit quietly.

“Yeah. Everything's fine,” lied Yuuri. He smiled at his friend to ease his worry, but he knew the smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

Phichit hummed in thought, tapping a finger against his cheek. He finally sighed in defeat and Yuuri felt his shoulders relax. He hated worrying Phichit, especially when it came to dealing with his anxiety.

“So, how was the date?”

Choking on his coffee, Yuuri spluttered at the sudden change in topic. He could feel his cheeks heating up under Phichit's knowing gaze and he ducked his head.

“It was fine,” he mumbled.

“Just fine? Nothing exciting happened?”

“Nope.”

“I feel like you're hiding something from me Yuuri,” accused Phichit.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

Phichit gasped, feigning hurt as he placed a hand to his forehead dramatically. “My own best friend, hiding the sordid details of his affair with TSG! I'm hurt, Yuuri!”

“A-affair?!” spluttered Yuuri, his eyes wide in horror. “Who said anything about an affair?!”

Phichit glanced at Yuuri from beneath his hand, which he refused to remove from its perch on his forehead; Yuuri obstinately avoided meeting his questioning gaze. Finally, Phichit huffed and planted his hand on his hip.

“Yuuri, you've got a hickey the size of Russia on your neck. There's no possible way you can get out of this one,” he stated matter-of-factly.

Yuuri's hand flew to his neck and he flushed in embarrassment. He had vaguely noted the bruising on his neck when he changed into clean clothes that morning, but his sleep-addled brain hadn't processed the extent of what it insinuated.

“It... I...” he stammered, desperately searching for the right words. Lowering his gaze, he meekly asked, “Is it really that bad?”

Phichit took a step towards Yuuri, tilting his head to the side to get a better look at the bruising. “It's not...” he paused as he squinted at the bruise. “Terrible,” he finished lamely.

“Phichit.”

“What do you want me to say? That it's barely noticeable? Because let me tell you, that's one hell of a biting kink that guy has if that's what he left you with.”

Without another word, Yuuri marched past Phichit and into their shared bathroom. Flicking on the light, he stared at himself in the mirror, eyes widening at the sight of his neck. The skin was mottled black and blue, the bruising spreading from the nape of his neck all the way up to his earlobe. He gingerly touched the skin and was thankful that it didn't feel nearly as bad as it looked.

Phichit leaned against the wall behind Yuuri and watched as Yuuri ran his fingers up and down his neck, brows furrowed in concentration.

“Yuuri, are you sure there's nothing else you're keeping from me?”

Meeting Phichit's gaze in the mirror, Yuuri bit his lower lip. He could hear the concern in Phichit's voice and knew that he only wanted what was best for him.

“Things just got a little...out of hand last night,” he murmured. “We were both drinking and I don't think either of us were thinking clearly.”

Phichit seemed satisfied with that and he pushed away from the wall. “Okay, but tell TSG that I'm keeping my eye on him. No funny business.”

“No funny business,” confirmed Yuuri, his lips curving into a slight smile.

Phichit took a step away before he turned back towards Yuuri. “There's some concealer in the medicine cabinet.”

“Thanks Phichit.”

* * *

“Jesus Christ, you did _what_?!”

Victor winced at the snarl in his ear and contemplated hanging up the phone, but he knew that would only enrage the other man further. Ever since he had returned to his apartment after leaving Yuuri, he couldn't shake the gnawing ache in his chest.

“I know it sounds bad, but –“

“You basically fucked him and left,” snapped Yuri.

Running a hand through his hair, Victor paced the length of his living room, feeling on edge. “How is this any different from what we usually do?”

Silence passed between them; Yuri clucked his tongue disapprovingly. The silence ate away at Victor's already raw and unfamiliar emotions, the silent judgment from the only person he felt he could trust causing his temper to flare.

“We both know we aren't supposed to stick around once we've fed,” snapped Victor. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he exhaled slowly, reigning in his temper. “Those are the rules.”

“Like you've ever been one to follow the rules. You're dating him,” retorted Yuri dryly. Victor huffed in annoyance at the truth in his statement. “Look, you said it yourself. This one felt different,” continued Yuri.

Victor paused in front of the large living room window overlooking downtown Detroit, the city twinkling warmly at him against the night sky. He pressed his forehead against the cool glass and sighed. “It did. It does.” He furrowed his brow as he tried to find the words to describe what he was feeling.

His chest ached with a want he had never experienced before; a want – a need – to be near Yuuri, to touch him. His fingertips tingled pleasantly at the thought of running hand hands through Yuuri's hair, touching him in a way that a lover might. A shiver ran down his spine as he remembered the way Yuuri had whispered his name, his voice breathless as his lips brushed against the shell of Victor's ear.

“Oi, are you listening to me old man?”

“Mmm,” hummed Victor.

A beat passed, Yuri sighing harshly on the other line in response. “You're going to go back to him, aren't you?”

Clenching his hand into a fist at his side, Victor straightened and exhaled slowly. “I am,” he said, his voice filled with conviction.

“You're an idiot.”

* * *

With a critical eye, Phichit surveyed the counter top before him. His laptop was fully charged, stacks of textbooks and notebooks from class neatly stacked beside it. An assortment of snacks and enough coffee to sustain the entire floor of their apartment building for a week were within an arms reach. His headphones were already plugged in to the audio jack of his laptop, music program loaded and ready to go. The only thing missing was his cell phone, which he had purposefully left in his bedroom to minimize distractions.

He had everything he needed to start his research for a paper due in two days, which he may or may not have forgotten about. Settling himself into his seat at the counter, he popped his headphones on and hit play on his music. Cracking open a can of his favorite espresso, he took a swig before steeling himself.

It was now or never and he really couldn't afford to fail this class.

Pulling up a rough draft, Phichit scanned the list of ideas and summaries that needed more fleshing out than he was willing to admit. It wasn't as though he hated his Eastern European history class; it was interesting learning about a region that was so close to his home country, but he couldn't get past his professor's monotone and general lack of enthusiasm. Anything Phichit may have found remotely interesting about Russia's tendency to pick fights with neighboring countries for trivial reasons was instantly made into the most mundane, soul crushing topic when his professor discussed it.

Sighing, Phichit took another sip of his drink as he scrolled through the Wikipedia page dedicated to the Russian revolution of 1917. His attention was dragged away from the riveting wall of text when he noticed Yuuri emerge from his bedroom. Pulling his headphones off, he figured taking a short break from his research wouldn't hurt.

“Hot date tonight?” he teased. He snickered as Yuuri jumped, his cheeks flushing slightly.

“Shouldn't you be working on your paper?” Yuuri padded over to Phichit, looking over his shoulder at the screen. “I still don't understand why you put these things off until the last minute. Life would be so much easier if you didn't procrastinate so much.”

“I tend to work better under pressure.”

“Pressure of failing a class you need to graduate?”

Phichit winced. “That was a low blow.”

Yuuri laughed, squeezing Phichit's shoulder as he walked away. “Sorry, but you know I'm right.”

Puffing his cheeks out in annoyance, Phichit watched Yuuri put on his coat and shoes. “You still didn't answer my question.”

“Oh, sorry. I'm meeting Victor for some drinks tonight, but I won't be out too late.”

Tapping his finger against his cheek, Phichit surveyed Yuuri. The bruising on his neck from the week before had finally begun to fade, though Yuuri was still wearing shirts with a high collar in an attempt to hide it from prying eyes. His lips quirked into a smile as Yuuri caught his gaze, his brows furrowing in confusion.

“What are you staring at?”

“Oh, just wondering where your next hickey is going to be,” mused Phichit. At Yuuri's indignant squeaking, Phichit laughed. “Just make sure he doesn't go crazy this time?”

Yuuri muttered something under his breath as he kicked his toe against the ground in annoyance.

“And don't be out too late.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes as he turned to grip the door handle. “Yes _mom_. Anything else?”

“Make sure you use protection!”

“Bye Phichit.”

The door slammed behind Yuuri as he rushed out of the apartment and Phichit burst into a fit of laughter. He loved teasing Yuuri more than anything because the reactions he got were always priceless. As his laughter subsided into giggles, he wiped a tear from his eyes before turning his attention back to his laptop.

The hours ticked by as he worked on his paper, flipping between his textbooks, notes from class, and the internet periodically as he waded his way through information about the various wars Russia had been involved with over the last two centuries.

Stretching his arms above his head with a yawn, Phichit reached for another can of espresso. Cracking it open, he clicked on a link that led him to some photos recovered from World War II. Most of them were propaganda photos, depicting the military in shining light, but he managed to find a few that displayed the misery of the soldiers and civilians as war ravaged their country.

His eyes narrowed as he looked at a photo of soldiers; it was a candid shot and somewhat blurry, but he could make out their faces if he squinted. One of the men looked vaguely familiar, but Phichit chucked it up to sleep deprivation making him see things. He mindlessly scrolled down the page, looking for a photo he could use as an insert when he stopped on another photo. The soldiers looked like your standard fresh recruits, but one of the men looked as if they had seen so much in their short life.

Chewing on his lower lip, Phichit saved the photo to his desktop before opening it in one of the various photo editors that came pre-installed on his laptop. After tweaking the sharpness and color saturation, he sat back and tried to wrap his head around his newfound discovery.

Phichit quickly pulled up Instagram, heart thundering in his chest as he struggled to convince himself that maybe he was wrong. Maybe it was a coincidence.

His heart sank when it finally clicked.

“Shit,” he whispered. Leaning back in his chair, Phichit covered his mouth with his hand in shock.

The man with bright blue eyes and a toothy grin smiling up at him, his arm wrapped around a flustered looking Yuuri looked strikingly similar to the man who marched in a war more than one hundred years prior.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who else wanted a scene from Phichit's POV? Because I sure as hell did and by God, I reworked it until I could keep it because I'm stubborn. His makeshift desk set up also may or may not be eerily similar to my own desk. In other news, I'll be attending Anime Central in Chicago this upcoming weekend and hosting a couple of panels with Spicenee. We'll be hosting the Makeup 101 and Kpop Trivia panels on Friday afternoon, so feel free to stop by and say hi if you're attending!
> 
> Come hang out with me on tumblr [here](http://www.mayelisa.tumblr.com)!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh you guys, thank you so much for all of the wonderful comments and kudos! It really means a lot to me because y'all have no idea how much I doubt my writing. Seriously. Ask literally anyone.
> 
> Huge thanks goes to my lovely beta, [@spicenee](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Spicenee/pseuds/Spicenee) for helping me so, so much with this chapter! If it weren't for her, I'd likely still be struggling with the direction for this chapter, so go give her some love!

Bouncing his leg against the support bar of the stool he perched on, Phichit furrowed his brows as he scrolled down an article. He wasn't entirely sure how he had ended up in the darker side of the internet and reading about conspiracy theories, dark folklore and supposed first hand accounts of encounters with vampires, but here he was. One link led to another and with each click of his mouse, Phichit became more and more suspicious of Victor.

Maybe the photos he had found for his paper weren't actually Victor; they could easily be a family member who shared eerily similar facial traits. It wasn't uncommon and Phichit had been told that he looked just like his great-grandfather on more than one occasion. But something niggled in the back of Phichit's mind, whispering that something wasn't quite right and that he should keep digging. Keep digging for more information, more evidence.

He needed to find something – anything – that would coax a confession from Victor.

Until he found what he was searching for, he would continue scouring the dark side of the internet even if it meant that he began feeling like he was starting to believe the conspiracy theorists on the internet.

He scrolled further down one of the first hand accounts he stumbled across and froze when a photo of the victim appeared. It was a close up of the nape of their neck, their hand visible in the frame as they held their hair back for the photo. Phichit enlarged the photo and felt as if he had been punched in the gut.

On the side of their neck was two puncture wounds – presumably from the vampire's fangs – and Phichit swore they looked nearly identical to the marks on Yuuri's neck.

 

* * *

 

Phichit glanced up from his laptop when the familiar sound of the deadbolt turning greeted his ears. From his perch at the breakfast bar, he watched as Yuuri slipped into the apartment, locking the door behind him as quietly as possible.

He glanced at the clock on his laptop.

Two in the morning.

Propping his chin on one of his hands, he scrolled down one of the articles he was supposed to be using for his paper while not taking in any of the information. He waited quietly as Yuuri hung up his coat and placed his shoes in their place on their shoe rack, his movements deliberately slow in order to minimize the amount of sound he made.

His patience was rewarded when Yuuri turned around and all but squawked in surprise, his eyes wide as he clutched at his chest.

“Welcome home Yuuri,” he chirped.

“P-Phichit, why did you –“ Yuuri trailed off as he swallowed thickly, his eyes darting around the dimly lit apartment. “What are you still doing up?”

Phichit hummed, absentmindedly scrolling down the article on his screen. He could see Yuuri fidgeting in his peripheral vision as he waited for his response.

“I was worried about you, so I thought I'd wait for you,” he said. Bringing his gaze up to Yuuri's, he smiled. “Besides, I still haven't finished my paper yet and you know what they say about burning the midnight oil.”

Yuuri sighed and Phichit felt his smile falter ever so slightly when Yuuri dropped his gaze.

“I'm not a child,” he muttered. “You don't need to wait up for me like you're my parents.”

Snapping his laptop shut, Phichit slid off the bar stool and stepped closer to his friend. “Yuuri, I'm not saying you're a child and I'm not trying to act like your parents. But I worry –“

“You don't need to worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

Running a hand through his hair in frustration, Phichit's brows furrowed. “I'm not doubting that you can take care of yourself. But sneaking in at two in the morning isn't like you!”

“Why are you trying to start an argument about this?!” snapped Yuuri.

“ _I'm_ trying to start an argument? The only thing I'm guilty of is being worried about you! Ever since you started seeing this Victor guy –“

“Don't. Don't you dare try and ruin this for me!”

Phichit's eyes widened at the look of anguish on Yuuri's face; unshed tears pooled in the corner of his eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. His mouth was set in a grim line, his brows furrowed in frustration as his hands shook at his sides.

Reaching for Yuuri's hand, Phichit pleaded, “Yuuri, I'm not –“

“I'm going to bed.”

Before Phichit could process what had just transpired, Yuuri spun on his heel and stormed into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Phichit winced at the harsh sound. A tense quiet settled over the apartment, the only sound permeating the room that of Phichit's racing heart.

 

* * *

 

 

Over the next few weeks, Phichit grew increasingly frustrated with Yuuri. On more than one occasion, he had caught Yuuri sneaking into the apartment at all hours of the night only to find that he had left the apartment before Phichit had even woken up the next morning. Every time he attempted to bring up his concerns, Yuuri became tight lipped and defensive, a side to him Phichit had never seen before.

Their relationship had become strained and Phichit was loathe to admit that maybe he had been wrong for pushing Yuuri to see Victor in the first place. Of course he only wanted Yuuri to be happy, but at what cost?

One night, as Phichit found himself lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling and unable to quiet the thoughts in his head, the quiet hum of the TV permeated the silence of the apartment. Glancing at his alarm clock, he found that he wasn't surprised that Yuuri was awake at the ungodly hour of three in the morning. Chewing on his lower lip, he weighed the risks of joining his friend in his late night Netflix binge.

On one hand, it could be his chance to mend things between himself and Yuuri. He desperately missed Yuuri's company, his sarcastic responses to Phichit's antics and the promise that when things became tough, they would be there to help each other through anything.

On the other hand, the voice in the back of his mind warned, if he pushed Yuuri too far, he could permanently end their friendship.

Exhaling harshly, he glanced at the photo of himself and Yuuri pinned to the cork board above his desk. They had taken a trip to Chicago after saving every spare penny they could a few years ago, wanting to explore another city, another way of life. Over the long weekend, they visited bakeries touting the best vegan cupcakes you've ever had this side of the city, investigated the luxury stores along Miracle Mile that they couldn't even begin to dream of shopping at, explored all of the museums and parks along the lakeshore. Their final stop had been at Navy Pier; Phichit had begged Yuuri to take a photo with him as they strolled along the boardwalk to commemorate their trip and he had finally relented. They had opted to take a selfie in front of the large ferris wheel that was the center of attractions on the pier, both of them grinning from ear to ear despite the flush on their cheeks from the summer heat.

Seeing that photo caused a swell of emotions to wash over Phichit. He longed for the easy relationship that they had back then, but knew deep down that they would never grow as an individual and in their friendship if they didn't have trials along the way. Taking a deep breath, Phichit pushed himself out of bed, tentatively making his way out of his bedroom and towards the living room.

He paused in the hallway, the flickering light from the TV bathing the living room in a blue hue. Yuuri was perched on the couch in his usual spot, a cup of tea cradled in his hands as he stared blankly at the screen. He hadn't seemed to notice Phichit's presence until Phichit stepped on a creaky patch of floorboards. Phichit froze when Yuuri's gaze met his, almost as if he was afraid of scaring his friend back into his bedroom.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked quietly.

Yuuri stared at him for a moment before shrugging and turning his attention back to the TV. With a small sigh of relief, Phichit padded over to the couch and sat beside Yuuri. They didn't say anything for a moment; Phichit fiddling with the hem of his shirt as he searched for the right words.

He settled for something noncommittal in the end. “What are you watching?”

“The Great British Bake Off.” A pause, and then, “I like seeing what they come up with.”

Nodding, Phichit sat beside Yuuri in silence. They both winced when one of the contestants threw his final bake into the trash bin before storming off after another contestant sabotaged him. Neither were surprised when he was sent home, though Yuuri was visibly upset over it.

“If she hadn't left his ice cream out to melt, he probably wouldn't have been sent home,” he muttered.

Stifling a laugh, Phichit glanced at Yuuri and was shocked at just how _tired_ he looked. The dark circles under his eyes could easily be explained away as lack of sleep due to his heavy work load, but his eyes had seemed to lose some of their usual warmth. His cheeks had an unusual pallor to them and Phichit doubted it was simply due to the lack of sunshine they had been experiencing lately.

His attention was drawn to another bruise blooming across Yuuri's neck, smaller and less obvious this time. Over the past few weeks, Yuuri had been coming home with an assortment of bruising and bite marks scattered across his body. More often than not, they were on his neck, but Phichit had noticed smaller markings on the inside of Yuuri's wrist or on his shoulder. His smile faded slightly, his suspicions of Victor becoming all the more justified in his eye.

Yuuri chewed on his lower lip, a nervous habit Phichit had seen many times before when he was in uncomfortable situations. Phichit's heart ached knowing that his best friend was uncomfortable because of something he had done. Looking up at the ceiling, Phichit closed his eyes and sighed, not knowing where to begin.

“What are you still doing up?” inquired Yuuri. His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, as he pulled his knees into his chest. His gaze was focused on the TV, but Phichit knew he wasn't really listening to the hosts give the bakers their instructions.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Yuuri shrugged. “Couldn't sleep.”

“Me either.” Licking his lips, Phichit's brows furrowed slightly as he turned to face Yuuri. “Listen Yuuri, I –“

“Can we just –“ Yuuri swallowed thickly and Phichit lost all of his resolve seeing him pull his knees closer to his chest in an attempt to become smaller. “Can we just sit here?” he asked tremulously.

Scooting closer, Phichit cautiously wrapped his arm around Yuuri's shoulders. When he didn't object, Phichit pulled him closer, resting his cheek on the crown of Yuuri's head. He tightened his grip on Yuuri's shoulder when he felt warm droplets soak into his shirt sleeve.

“Yeah...”

 

* * *

 

 

“Yuuri, we need to talk.”

Pulling one of his earbuds out, Yuuri blinked owlishly up at Phichit. It had only been a few hours since Phichit sat beside him, pretending to watch a baking competition while his best friend silently shed tears and he couldn't sit idly by any longer. The tension between them had waned slightly, but Phichit could still see Yuuri mentally putting up his defenses.

“About what?”

Phichit inhaled deeply, steadying himself. “We need to talk about Victor.”

“ _Again_?” sighed Yuuri. “There's nothing to talk about.”

Sitting on the edge of Yuuri's bed, Phichit gave him a pleading look. Reaching out, he tentatively took Yuuri's hand in his, squeezing it gently. When Yuuri didn't try to pull his hand back, Phichit felt relieved.

“Look, I get it. You really like this guy and I think that's great. But you've been coming home later and later and...” Phichit trailed off, not entirely sure how to voice his concerns. “I'm worried about the marks you're coming home with.”

“I know I'm being stupid,” whispered Yuuri, his voice barely audible.

“Not stupid,” murmured Phichit, his own voice quiet, afraid of breaking this fragile moment. “Maybe a little reckless, but not stupid.”

Unshed tears shone in Yuuri's eyes and Phichit felt his heart ache for his friend. Gathering Yuuri into his arms, he rubbed soothing circles on his back and sighed. Glancing at the doorway to his bedroom, he bit his lip.

Should he show Yuuri what he had found? Maybe it wasn't the best time, but when would it ever be? Pulling away, Phichit gripped Yuuri's shoulders as he steeled his resolve.

“Yuuri, there's something I want you to see. It's going to sound crazy, but I need you to hear me out.”

Yuuri took in Phichit's expression with uncertainty before he nodded. Phichit jumped up, telling Yuuri not to move before dashing into his bedroom to retrieve his laptop. Before Yuuri could voice any concerns, he was back, sitting beside Yuuri as he booted up his laptop.

“I don't think Victor is who he says he is,” he began slowly.

“Phichit, come on,” sighed Yuuri, his tone exasperated.

“Just – just hear me out on this, okay?” Phichit glanced at Yuuri who shot him a skeptical look, but nodded anyway. Ignoring the way his friend tensed up beside him, he began pulling up all of the links he had saved in the weeks prior.

Yuuri frowned at the screen. “I don't see what his Instagram has to do with this.”

“I promise all of this will make sense.” Hitting the key on his laptop to bring up the split-screen feature, Phichit scrolled through a few pages of photos before finding the one he was looking for.

It was a grainy black and white photo, obviously scanned in and sharpened by someone in Photoshop, depicting Russian soldiers marching down a street, flag waving in their wake. The photo was clearly shot for a newspaper article given the rigidity that the men in the photo held themselves with. Yuuri shot Phichit a questioning gaze, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“You know how I've been doing some research on Russian history and wars for my European History class? This photo was taken during World War II, just outside Saint Petersburg,” explained Phichit. He pointed out a face in the photo towards the back of the group. “Look familiar?”

“That could be anyone. Maybe his grandfather served in the military.”

“Maybe, but what about this one?” Phichit clicked on another open tab in his browser, pulling up an equally grainy photo of Russian soldiers. This one was a candid shot, the men grinning at the camera as they slung arms around one anothers shoulders. “This one was taken in World War I.”

Yuuri squinted at the photo, his index finger curled under his chin in thought. There was no mistaking that one of the men had the same sharp nose as Victor, the same brilliant smile. A few wisps of hair escaped his helmet, hanging over his left eye. Phichit watched as Yuuri's brows furrowed and the corners of his mouth turned down in a frown as his gaze flickered back and forth between the historical photos and Victor's most recent Instagram post.

“Yuuri, there's tons of photos.” Phichit made his point by bringing up a multitude of photos, from military service dating back to the early 1800's to more recent photos from the 1960's and 1980's. “He hasn't aged in any of them.”

A moment passed in silence as Yuuri stared at the photos. He inhaled deeply, as if to steady himself before turning to look at Phichit. “So what are you saying?” he asked quietly.

“This is going to sound crazy but I think...I think Victor might be a vampire.”

Yuuri cocked an eyebrow at Phichit, an incredulous look crossing his face. “You're kidding, right?”

“I'm not.”

“Phichit, you have to know how insane this sounds,” pressed Yuuri. His gaze flickered between the laptop screen and Phichit, worry setting into the lines of his mouth.

“I know how crazy this sounds, but hear me out. I've been doing some research –“

“Research. On _vampires_. You're doing research on something that doesn't exist.”

Ignoring the incredulous look Yuuri was shooting him, Phichit opened another set of bookmarks. “Ghosts don't exist and that hasn't stopped people from ghost hunting, has it?” Yuuri opened his mouth to respond, but Phichit pressed on. “Look, it says here that vampires are immortal and don't age beyond the age they were when turned. And here,” he pulled up another page, this time from a conspiracy theorists website. “There's all sorts of accounts of people being saved during the war by someone who had been what should have been fatally wounded. But they pulled them to safety before going right back into the fray.”

Phichit was startled when Yuuri placed a hand on his. He tore his gaze away from the screen and all of the air in his lungs rushed out of him at the worried look on Yuuri's face.

“Phichit, I know you're worried about me but this –“ He gestured to the laptop. “– this is crazy! There's no way that Victor is a vampire or immortal or anything else. I'm worried about you.”

“You're worried about _me_? _You're_ the one coming home covered in bruises and bite marks!” snapped Phichit. His shoulders slumped at the hurt that sparked in Yuuri's eyes and he sighed. “I'm sorry, that was... I shouldn't have said it.”

“But you said it anyway.” Yuuri untangled himself from his headphones, snapping his laptop shut. As he rose from the bed, laptop in hand, he muttered, “This is ridiculous. If I had known you would act like this when I actually start getting serious with someone, I never would have told you about him.”

“If it weren't for me, you wouldn't even be _getting_ serious with him!” spat Phichit.

“Is that what this is about?” Yuuri whirled around to face Phichit from where he stood by his desk. “You want your due thanks for setting me up with Victor?”

“No, that's not –“ Running his hands through his hair, Phichit stood and gestured wildly at Yuuri in exasperation. “You're completely missing the point!”

“What point?!” yelled Yuuri. “There's no point in talking about this anymore!”

“How can you possibly be this dense, Yuuri?! I'm worried about you and you're so disillusioned that you can't even see how fucked up this is!”

Yuuri became quiet, his hands clenched tightly at his sides as he stared at Phichit. “Is that all you have to say?”

“Yuuri, please, just _listen_ to me,” pleaded Phichit. He searched Yuuri's gaze, but found no warmth left in his expression. “Victor, he's – something isn't right about him and I – Where are you going?!”

Phichit froze, the air forced from his lungs at the withering look Yuuri sent him. “I'm not doing this anymore. If you can't be happy for me, then I guess...” He trailed off as he averted his gaze, his hands shaking as he gripped the doorknob. “I need some time to think. About _us_.”

Without another word, Yuuri left the room and Phichit distantly heard the click of their front door shutting behind him. He fell back onto Yuuri's bed, staring at the doorway dumbstruck. Bowing his head, he pulled at the short strands of his hair, tears burning as they escaped down his cheeks.

 

* * *

 

 

It had been hours since Yuuri had stormed out of the apartment – and potentially out of Phichit's life, though he refused to think about it – and Phichit found himself checking his phone for the millionth time. For not the first time that afternoon, he found himself typing out an apology but he frowned as he deleted it.

Throwing his phone to the opposite end of the couch, he clasped his hands together, elbows balancing on his knees as he stared at the wall. A multitude of emotions surged through him; fear that he had lost his best friend for good, guilt for not listening to Yuuri, frustration because Yuuri hadn't listened to him.

Startled out of his thoughts, Phichit jumped to his feet as black hair came into view. His heart leapt into his throat, apprehension and relief dueling for control of his emotions. He took a step towards the door, but stopped cold when a glimpse of silver appeared behind Yuuri.

Phichit could honestly say he never felt true fear until that moment; the hair on the back of his neck stood on end and his stomach dropped as Victor entered their quaint home, all smiles and laughter as he shrugged off his coat like it was completely normal. Swallowing thickly, he found that he had become rooted to the spot, unable to move even if his life depended on it.

Brown eyes found his gaze, and while Phichit was relieved that there didn't seem to be animosity in his gaze, he was worried by how guarded his friend appeared.

“Phichit, this is Victor,” said Yuuri, gesturing to the man standing beside him. “Victor, this is Phichit.”

Forcing himself to push his apprehension aside, Phichit stepped forward, hand extended and the best smile he could muster on his face. “Ah, so this is the Victor I've heard so much about.”

Something flickered in Victor's eyes, but Phichit couldn't quite place it. Victor took his hand, shaking it firmly as his gaze raked over his form. “We've met before haven't we?”

“You could say that,” countered Phichit. He held Victor's gaze as he shook his hand a bit harder than necessary before disengaging.

Victor glanced at Yuuri questioningly, an unspoken question passing between them. Phichit cleared his throat, successfully pulling both Yuuri and Victor's attention to him.

“Please, come in! Make yourself at home, Victor.” Moving towards the kitchen, he called out over his shoulder, “Is there anything I can get you?”

Victor smiled, shaking his head. “Yuuri and I actually just ate, but thanks.”

Phichit's eyes narrowed at the slight lilt to Victor's voice, insinuating something unspoken. _'Oh, I'm sure you ate alright,'_ he thought bitterly.

“So, Yuuri told me that you had something to ask me?” asked Victor brightly, looking completely at ease despite the tension in the air.

Phichit worried his lower lip for a moment before exhaling harshly. He met Victor's inquisitive gaze, steeling his resolve. He had to find out if he was right about Victor; if not for himself, then for Yuuri. “Yeah, I have a paper for my history class that's due soon and Yuuri tells me you grew up in Russia, so I was hoping you could look it over and make sure I'm not missing anything important.”

“I'm not that great with history,” laughed Victor. “But sure, I could look it over for you.”

“Great! Let me go grab my laptop.”

Phichit headed into his bedroom, taking the small reprieve to collect himself. His blood thundered in his ears, pulse rabbiting under his skin as he fought to steady his breathing. Shutting his eyes, he inhaled deeply, counting to ten as he did so, before exhaling slowly. After a few breaths, he felt more centered and able to face Victor head on. Grabbing his laptop, he made his way back towards the living room.

Victor and Yuuri were sitting beside each other on the small couch, talking in hushed voices. A soft blush appeared on Yuuri's cheeks, eliciting a quiet laugh from Victor. Frowning, Phichit made his way towards the couch, plopping onto the open cushion with more impact than was warranted. He opened the document containing the final draft of his paper before handing his laptop over to Victor. Victor hummed as he scrolled through the document, nodding here and there as he went along.

After what felt like an eternity, Victor handed the laptop back to Phichit, a smile on his lips. “It looked fine to me, though I honestly couldn't tell you if the dates were correct or not off the top of my head.”

Nodding, Phichit accepted his laptop back. “Thanks for looking it over for me. I'd ask Yuuri, but he always rips them apart.” Yuuri snorted at that statement, though he didn't deny it. “Actually, could you do me one more favor Victor? It would really help me out.”

Victor tilted his head in curiosity. “Sure, what is it?”

“I was wondering...” Phichit trailed off as he pulled up the photos he had found during his research before handing the laptop back to Victor. “Do these photos look familiar to you?” he asked.

Victor leaned forward, eyes narrowing as he glanced at the old photos displayed on the screen. His brows furrowed for the briefest of moments before his easy smile reappeared on his face. “Those are old military photos, yes?”

“They are.” Phichit forced himself to relax, hoping to come across as merely curious. “Did you serve in the military at all while you were in Russia?”

“I have family who have served in the past,” replied Victor. His gaze sharpened as he surveyed Phichit properly for the first time that evening. “Why do you ask?”

Phichit smiled and shrugged nonchalantly. “Just curious, that's all. There were a few photos where someone looked like you and I thought maybe it was your grandfather or someone else related to you.”

Victor visibly relaxed against the couch, a quiet laugh escaping him. “Is that all? You could have just said that in the first place. I felt like I was in an interrogation!”

“Ah, sorry about that.” Rubbing the back of his neck, Phichit smiled sheepishly at the pointed look Yuuri was shooting him from Victor's side.

“Not a problem, but –“ Victor tightened his grip on Yuuri's shoulder, his eyes narrowing as he did so. “I have to ask, why are you suddenly so interested in me?”

Phichit's breath caught in his throat, his pulse rabbiting under his skin as Victor seemed to see right through him. Swallowing thickly, he sighed. “You caught me. I know you and Yuuri are getting serious and as his best friend –” He glanced at Yuuri cautiously. “– I felt like I should get to know you better.”

Victor watched Phichit quietly, his blue eyes piercing as he scrutinized Phichit. “What do you really want to know Phichit? I doubt it's whether my family served in the Russian military.”

Phichit watched as Yuuri's gaze flickered between them, the air becoming oppressive and palpable. After a tense moment, he decided to wave caution to the wind, repercussions be damned.

“Victor, are you a vampire?”

“Phichit!” hissed Yuuri, his wide brown eyes staring at him like he had grown two heads.

“And what, pray tell, has brought you to the conclusion that I'm a vampire?” asked Victor. Phichit was thrown by how cold his voice had become, losing all traces of the warmth and bubbly attitude he had moments before.

“Well...” Phichit gestured vaguely at the laptop still in Victor's lap. “For starters, the photos.”

“Photos from over seventy years ago? That could be anyone. You said so yourself,” countered Victor.

“What about the accounts of men who saved members of their battalion before rushing back out into the fight, despite being wounded so badly they should have been dead?”

Victor laughed, the sound harsh in the air around them. “You really think that the accounts of a soldier, who was most likely delusional from blood loss or dehydration, could be a reputable source?”

Phichit bit the inside of his cheek, his brows furrowing. “Then what about Yuuri?”

“Yuuri's got nothing to do with this,” snapped Victor. Phichit's heart skipped a beat at the venom in Victor's voice; the thinly veiled threat hidden behind the intensity of Victor's gaze.

“What about the bruises on his neck? The bite marks?” pressed Phichit.

“You shouldn't be prying in to what Yuuri and I do in private,” warned Victor. “It's none of your business.”

Phichit rose to his feet, his hands balled into fists at his side as he shook with rage. “It _is_ my business! He's my best friend, my _brother_ , and you think I'm just going to sit idly by while you do God knows what to him?!”

Yuuri tentatively stood, placing himself between Phichit and Victor as he waved his hands around. “Hey, why don't we just calm down and talk about this some other ti–“

“I am.”

Yuuri frowned at Victor. “You don't sound very calm to me.”

Victor brought his gaze to Yuuri's, his expression softening with something Phichit could only describe as fondness. His lips curved into a small smile as he took Yuuri's hand in his own.

“Phichit is right. Yuuri, I'm a vampire.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can't tell, I thoroughly enjoy binging GBBO when I'm under the weather or just generally feeling down. There's something about the show that calms me and I feel like Yuuri would need that right about now. Anyone who can tell me which contestant/episode I referenced gets a gold star. I'd also like to mention that the [bakery](http://westtownbakery.com/) I mentioned in here is real and seriously does have some of the best vegan cupcakes on the planet. I didn't know they were vegan until after I stuffed it in my face!
> 
> Free counseling is available at my [tumblr](http://mayelisa.tumblr.com/) if our little stop in Feels-ville hit you as hard as it hit me.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay with this chapter! I won't bore you with excuses about how being an adult sucks, so I'll leave you to enjoy the chapter instead.
> 
> Warning for mentions of panic/anxiety attacks and a little something mature near the end of the chapter.
> 
> I honestly cannot thank my wonderful beta, [@spicenee](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Spicenee/pseuds/Spicenee) enough for helping me with this chapter. If it weren't for her talking me off a ledge and helping me through numerous brainstorming sessions, I might still be struggling with this so be sure to go give her some love!

A beat passed, the silence deafening as Yuuri stared at Victor incredulously. Victor still held his hands, his blue eyes holding his gaze resolutely.

“I'm sorry,” said Yuuri, laughing nervously. “I could have sworn you just said you're a vampire.”

Victor nodded enthusiastically, his lips curving into a genuine smile. “I am.”

“No you're not.” Shaking his head, Yuuri tried to clear his thoughts. It was absolutely insane to even begin to wrap his mind around Victor's confession. “You two are just playing a prank on me.”

Yuuri watched as Victor's smile faltered ever-so-slightly, his grip on Yuuri's hands tightening incrementally; if Yuuri didn't know better, he'd say that Victor was disappointed that he didn't believe him. “I'm not playing a prank on you, I swear.”

“Prove it,” said Phichit. Yuuri turned to look at Phichit; his friend had been uncharacteristically quiet since Victor's confession, but he never took his eyes off of Victor. “Prove that I'm right about you.”

“Phichit, you're not still – “ Yuuri's breath caught in his lungs as Victor slipped his finger under his chin, guiding his face so that their gazes met again.

“Pay close attention Yuuri.” Victor's gaze left Yuuri's for a moment as he regarded Phichit from the corner of his eye. “You too, Phichit.”

Yuuri held his breath, gaze unwavering as Victor slowly brought a hand to the corner of his mouth. After the briefest of hesitations, he hooked his index finger into the corner of his mouth, pulling the flesh back to expose his canine teeth. Yuuri's blood ran cold as he watched, transfixed as Victor's canine elongated into sharp fangs.

_Fangs._

Perfect for drinking blood from unwilling (or willing) victims.

Yuuri heard Phichit's sharp inhale coupled with a whispered “I was right”, though his brain seemed to refuse to process what he had just witnessed. His heart pounded painfully against his ribs, adrenaline pumping through his veins as his body begged him to choose whether to fight or fly.

He found that he could do neither. He sat frozen on the couch beside Victor, his hand still securely in Victor's grasp and he struggled to breathe under the weight of his realization.

“S-so you're...” he whispered, his voice failing him.

“I'm a vampire,” said Victor, relief washing into his voice. “You have no idea how hard it's been to keep that a secret all these years.”

Wrenching his hands out of Victor's grasp, Yuuri rose to his feet as he frantically scanned the small living room for something – anything – to ground himself. Not finding anything that wound help the slightest, Yuuri settled for pacing back and forth across the length of the room.

“Yuuri, I can explain –“

“What is there to explain?” Yuuri stopped his pacing long enough to glance at Victor before averting his gaze in frustration. “You're a vampire and I'm just...” He laughed to himself, the sound bordering on hysterical even to his own ears. “I'm just your...your...”

Between the storm of emotions and thoughts raging in Yuuri's mind and his exhaustion, he bit back a sob, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes. His breath caught in his throat, his chest squeezing his lungs until he couldn't choke down a breath. Curling his fingers into his hair, he pulled on the strands in the hopes that the pain would break through the panic washing over him. His vision swam, lungs burning as he struggled to choke down enough oxygen, his breaths becoming shorter and more uneven.

Cool fingers curled around his hands, gently pulling his hands away from his hair. He tried pulling his hands away, but they just tightened their grip on his hands.

“Look at me Yuuri,” came the soft plea.

Yuuri tentatively brought his gaze up, his body shaking as he found himself face to face with Victor. His eyes widened, his pulse skipping under Victor's concerned gaze and his skin growing cold despite the sweat breaking out along his hairline.

“Yuuri, I don't want this to come between us,” whispered Victor. He brought his thumb to Yuuri's cheek to wipe away his tears; he was startled when Yuuri jerked out of his grasp, chest heaving as he stared at Victor as if he had turned into some kind of monster.

“Don't – don't touch me,” he ground out, teeth clenched.

Victor stood stock still, unsure of how to handle the situation. He had never expected Yuuri to react like this, to push him away after learning the truth he had longed to share for so long. _'You should have known better,'_ whispered a voice in the back of his mind. _'Everyone runs when they learn the truth.'_

Tamping down on the voice in his mind, Victor stubbornly ignored the truth behind the words as he watched helplessly as Yuuri crumbled into a sobbing heap on the floor before him, Phichit by his side.

“Breathe Yuuri. Look at me and _breathe,_ ” murmured Phichit as he clasped Yuuri's hands in his.

Phichit coached Yuuri through his breaths, counting to four before releasing the breath slowly, albeit a little shakily. Yuuri kept his gaze solely on Phichit much to Victor's annoyance, his cheeks flushed a bright red against the pallor of his skin as he reigned in his breathing. Yuuri hesitantly brought his gaze up to Victor's and for a brief moment Victor thought he might have a chance; his hopes were dashed when Yuuri visibly tensed under his gaze, pupils dilating in fear.

Phichit must have noticed how tense Yuuri was before his gaze flickered up to Victor, his mouth set in a grim line. “I think you should leave.”

“But Yuuri –“

“He'll be fine,” snapped Phichit, his words clipped with anger.

With a sigh of defeat, Victor turned his back to Yuuri and made his way towards the entryway. Slipping his shoes on, his brows furrowed.

It wasn't fair. Why was he the bad guy for wanting to share his deepest secrets with Yuuri? Shouldn't that be something to praise?

Turning back towards the two men crouched on the floor, Victor opened his mouth to say something, but the sight of Yuuri in tears, body shaking as he curled in on himself in an attempt to make himself appear smaller caused the words to die in his throat. Phichit glanced at him from over his shoulder, the stern expression on his face further deflated Victor. Without another word, Victor slipped out of the apartment feeling more unsure of himself than he had in over a century.

 

* * *

In the week since Victor had confessed to actually being a vampire (something Phichit would be lying about if he said he wasn't just a little bit smug about) Yuuri had spent nearly all of his time moping around the apartment. Phichit would routinely find him lying on the couch, staring blankly at the TV or locked in his bedroom. On the rare occasion he left the apartment for class, he returned immediately afterwards and promptly went back to hiding under the covers of his bed. There had been plenty of tears shed, though they were mostly coupled with bitter mutterings in Japanese, of which Phichit was only able to make out a few choice words.

It was by far the worst break up Yuuri had experienced and Phichit knew exactly how to get him out of his funk.

Pushing the door to Yuuri's bedroom open, he marched past the large lump on the bed, black hair poking out from underneath the covers and threw the curtains open, bathing the room in light.

“Rise and shine Yuuri!” chirped Phichit.

“Don't wanna,” grumbled Yuuri as he tugged the covers over his head in an act of defiance.

Gripping the end of the covers, Phichit ripped them off of Yuuri with a flourish, exposing his friend to the elements. He watched in amusement as Yuuri curled in on himself in an attempt to maintain what warmth he had left from his covers while simultaneously burying his head under his pillow to try and block out the bright light streaming in through the windows.

“It's time to get up and stop moping around.” Clamoring onto the bed, Phichit laid on his side, facing Yuuri who was still preoccupied with shielding his eyes from the morning sun.

“I'm not moping,” came Yuuri's muffled response from beneath his pillow.

“Yuuri, if someone were to look up the definition of the word 'moping', it would be a picture of you.” The corners of Phichit's mouth quirked into a small smile when Yuuri pulled his head out from underneath his pillow to glare at him. “Come on, let's go get some breakfast. The first step in getting over a break up is a large stack of pancakes.”

“You just want pancakes.”

“That's besides the point,” countered Phichit. “The point is that you need to stop moping around.”

Yuuri sighed and laid his head on his mattress, his face settling in a deceivingly neutral expression. “I'm not really hungry right now.”

“But I bet if Victor asked you to go with him you'd jump at the chance.”

“After everything that just happened? Fuck him,” grumbled Yuuri.

“I think you've already done that,” teased Phichit. Yuuri shoved his shoulder weakly in protest before cracking a small smile.

“You're horrible.”

“I'm precious and you know it.” A beat passed in silence. “You're really torn up about this aren't you?”

Yuuri's smile faltered and he sighed. “I really liked him...”

Biting his lip, Phichit wasn't sure what to do. Guilt had been eating at him for days; he was the cause of his friend's heartbreak, no matter how many times he tried to convince himself that it was for the best. “Listen, Yuuri, I –“

“It's okay.” Yuuri cracked a wry smile, the corners of his tired eyes crinkling slightly. “It's for the best, right? Who knows what would have happened if you hadn't figured out that he was a...”

Inhaling, Phichit readied himself to protest, to say that it was all his fault that Yuuri had become a heartbroken wreck, that he was responsible for the tears shed at three in the morning when Yuuri thought he had been asleep. Before he could find the words to express how the guilt of what he had done gnawed at him day and night, Yuuri's phone rang on the bedside table. Phichit noticed how Yuuri's face fell, his eyes focused on his sheets as he visibly tensed at the first notes of his ring tone.

Cautiously, Phichit nodded his head towards the phone. “Aren't you going to answer that? It could be your parents.”

Yuuri shook his head, eyebrows knitting together as the last notes of his ring tone faded. “It's not.”

“Ah.” Dropping his gaze, Phichit ran his fingers along the hem of Yuuri's pillowcase. Silence permeated the room, suffocating him as they both tried avoiding addressing the elephant in the room. Finally, Phichit couldn't take the silence any longer. “How many times has he called?”

Yuuri shrugged, keeping his gaze down at his bed. “I lost count around fifty.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah...”

Chewing on his lower lip, Phichit contemplated what to do. On one hand, he wanted Yuuri to be happy and if that meant being with Victor then that wasn't his place to say otherwise. But on the other, Victor was a _vampire_. A blood sucking, life draining creature that lived for all eternity.

But he made Yuuri happy.

After a short internal debate about whether it was the right thing to do or not, Phichit propped himself up and reaching over Yuuri to snatch his phone off of the table. Inputting the unlock code, he set about pulling up the messaging app.

“What are you doing?!” spluttered Yuuri. “Give it back!”

Phichit rolled onto his side, holding the phone out of Yuuri's reach as he hurriedly typed out an outgoing message before hitting send. With a grin, he handed Yuuri his phone back.

“I invited Victor over for dinner tonight. You're cooking, by the way.”

Yuuri gaped at him as he clutched his phone to his chest. “You did _what_?!” He jumped as his phone chimed in his hands.

“Looks like he's accepted, so you'd better go shower,” came Phichit's answer, complete with waggling eyebrows and a suggestive wink.

“Why are you suddenly alright with this? With him?”

Phichit's smile faltered, the cheery facade he had attempted to put up fading. “To be honest, I'm not. But I want you to be happy and I can't bear the fact that I'm the reason you're not with him.” Scooting closer, he pressed his forehead against Yuuri's. “I won't let anything happen to you, Yuuri. I wasn't kidding when I said I would kill him.”

“Phichit...”

“One stake to the heart, that's all it'll take.”

“Phichit, I swear to God –“ Yuuri sighed exasperatedly before he smiled shyly at his friend. “Thank you.”

Grinning back, Phichit felt the ache in his heart ease slightly. “Anytime.”

* * *

Brows furrowed, Yuuri concentrated on the knife in his hands. The sound of the blade striking the cutting board repeatedly as he haphazardly minced several heads of garlic sounded throughout the apartment. Phichit was sitting in his usual perch by the breakfast bar, legs swinging in the air as he watched Yuuri.

“I know you're making garlic chicken and pasta, but I think you went a bit overboard there,” quipped Phichit.

Yuuri shot Phichit a scathing glare as he gestured towards his friend with the knife in his hand. _“You're_ the one who went and invited him over.”

“And _I'm_ not the one waving a large knife around at my best friend.”

Huffing in agitation, Yuuri placed the knife down on the cutting board before wiping his hands off on his apron. His stomach had long since tied itself in nervous knots, his anxiety simmering just below the surface. Phichit had been a constant presence throughout the day, talking him out of calling the whole thing off, reassuring him that he'd be there the entire time. He had escorted Yuuri to the store, mentioning that according to his research vampires had an aversion to garlic in such an off-handed way Yuuri almost thought it hadn't been intentional.

A knock sounded at the front door, causing Yuuri to jump. His heart hammered wildly in his chest as he gripped the edge of the counter tightly. He could do this. He could invite Victor into his home and hear his side of the story. He could keep a cool head, keep his emotions out of the picture, keep his distance.

Another knock.

He couldn't do this.

“Phichit, I can't do this,” he whispered.

In an instant, Phichit was by his side, pushing a glass of amber liquid into his hand with a reassuring smile. “Yes you can. I'm here to back you up, whatever happens.”

Downing the contents of the glass in a single gulp, Yuuri focused on the burning of his throat, the warmth spreading through his chest. Setting the glass on the counter, Yuuri gave Phichit a small nod before making his way to the front door. Steeling his resolve, he opened the door and found his gaze immediately drawn to Victor's.

“Hi.”

Yuuri was caught off guard by how simply the word was said; it was as if nothing had happened between them. He stared at Victor, unable to move under his piercing gaze but wanting desperately to get back to the safety of Phichit's company. “Hi.”

Victor chuckled. “Can I come in?” he prompted, lips quirked in amusement.

“Oh, right!” Yuuri scrambled to step out of the door frame, his cheeks heating in embarrassment. “Come in.”

Retreating back into the relative safety of his kitchen, Yuuri cautiously watched Victor from the corner of his eye; the way he methodically shed his jacket before toeing off his shoes and placing them in the shoe rack, as if he had done it a thousand times before. Yuuri tensed as Victor turned towards him. Victor opened his mouth to say something, but stopped as a grimace twisted his face.

“What is that smell?” he asked, as he covered his mouth with his hand.

“Garlic. Didn't Yuuri tell you he was making his famous garlic chicken tonight?” inquired Phichit, a look of pure innocence on his face.

Victor's brow furrowed in confusion as he glanced towards Phichit. “I didn't know he was going to be here as well.”

“He's my support system,” replied Yuuri coolly.

Phichit gave Yuuri a thumbs up and a wide grin. “You're doing great Yuuri!”

Yuuri absently grabbed the knife off of the counter, resuming his task without a second glance towards Victor. “After everything that happened, I didn't feel...” He trailed off, his motions slowing as he fought back his emotions.

“Safe,” supplied Phichit. “He didn't feel safe being around you by himself. I hope that's okay.”

“Of course it is,” replied Victor smoothly. The tone in which he responded sent shivers down Yuuri's spine; there was no warmth in his words, none of the fondness that he used to imbue his words with. “I hope you'll understand if I don't assist you in the kitchen tonight, Yuuri. I'm not fond of garlic.”

Yuuri nodded his head jerkily, refusing to look in his direction. Phichit joined Victor in the living room, Victor sitting as far away from the offending smell as he could. As they chatted, Victor answering the slew of questions Phichit threw at him, Yuuri focused on the cutting board in front of his as his mind ran rampant, thoughts disappearing as soon as they appeared.

Why did Victor agree to come? Did he come because he truly cared for him or because he was trying to secure his next meal?

Bringing his fingers up to the nape of his neck, Yuuri swallowed thickly. Victor had most certainly fed on his blood already, but why didn't he kill him? Isn't that what vampires did to their prey? Or did they just wipe their memories before moving on to their next victim?

He really should have read some of those articles Phichit sent him.

“Yuuuuriii,” whined Victor. “Why don't you come here and talk to me?”

Yuuri regarded Victor for a moment; his lips turned down into a pout as he sat beside Phichit. Biting his lip, Yuuri fought the urge to give in and jump into his arms. Ignoring the pit in his stomach, he murmured, “What is there to talk about?”

“Everything. Or nothing. We can talk about whatever you're comfortable with.”

Turning his back to Victor, Yuuri preoccupied himself with pulling out a large stock pot and filling it with water. Setting the pot onto their small stove with a little more force than necessary, Yuuri silently seethed.

Victor just _had_ to be so accommodating, never pushing him out of his comfort zone, never being the one to steer the conversation. He was a gentleman through and through and for some reason, that irked Yuuri to no end. How could someone who was perfect in every way be so adept at fooling everyone around him?

Pulling the chicken out of the fridge, he methodically rinsed and patted the meat dry as he tried to reign in his emotions. Transferring the garlic into a small bowl, he wiped down the cutting board before tossing the breast meat onto the surface. His hands shook as he bit back the words begging to break free, the anger and hurt threatening to spill out.

He distantly heard Phichit call his name, concern lacing his voice, but the blood pounding in Yuuri's ears drowned it out. Picking up the knife, he set about butterflying the chicken, concentrating on the task at hand. Picking up the final piece of meat, he exhaled slowly to steady his nerves.

“Yuuri, please,” came Victor's voice from across the breakfast bar. “Talk to me.”

Glancing up, Yuuri flinched when he saw that Victor was sitting opposite him at the breakfast bar. “Victor, wha-” The words died in his mouth as he hissed in pain, the knife clattering onto the counter top as he instinctively gripped his left thumb tightly.

Phichit dashed into the kitchen, his eyes wide at the sight of blood dripping down Yuuri's hand. Pulling his friend towards the sink, he turned on the water. After a minute spent coaxing a panicked Yuuri to let go of his thumb, Phichit swore when he saw how deep the cut was.

“Shit, I think we need to go to the hospital. That's really deep,” murmured Phichit, more to himself than to anyone else.

Grabbing a towel, Phichit wrapped up Yuuri's hand the best he could before instructing Yuuri to hold his hand above his head to help stem the bleeding. Yuuri stood in the middle of the kitchen as Phichit buzzed around him, muttering things to himself as he helped Yuuri slip his shoes on. In his panic, he had forgotten that Victor was there until he heard a sharp inhale.

Lifting his gaze, Yuuri's blood ran cold at the look in Victor's eyes. No longer were they the clear blue he often found himself drowning in; instead they were a deep crimson, his pupils dilated in hunger. Victor himself looked conflicted. Yuuri watched as his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed thickly, his hands clasped tightly together, his back straight as an arrow.

“Yuuri, what are you doing? We need to get you to the –“ Phichit paused when he caught sight of Victor, his face paling as the realization of the situation dawned on him. “We need to go. _Now._ ”

Despite Phichit tugging on his arm, Yuuri found himself rooted to the spot under Victor's gaze. His breath caught in his throat when Victor slowly rose from his seat, his gaze never leaving Yuuri's.

“Come on, we need to go,” urged Phichit, his voice hushed as he put himself in between the two other men.

Victor hesitated near the threshold of the kitchen, his nose wrinkling as the smell of garlic enveloped his senses. Panic spiked in Yuuri, his mouth going dry as he swayed slightly. Victor's brow furrowed, concern marring his features as he forced himself across the room.

“Let me see your hand.”

Phichit gripped Yuuri's shoulders tightly. “Don't listen to him Yuuri. We need to get you to the hospital.”

“Yuuri,” breathed Victor, his voice pleading and wanting all at one. “Let me see your hand.”

Before Phichit could protest further, Yuuri hesitantly lowered his arm, extending his hand to Victor. The towel had become stained crimson, the fabric wet with blood; Victor gingerly removed it before tossing it in the sink beside him. Yuuri trembled, his head becoming fuzzy as Victor's fingers brushed against his palm. His throat tightened as Victor brought his nose to Yuuri's wrist, inhaling deeply.

“Victor, I –“

His thoughts skittered to a stop when Victor's eyes opened, his pupils blown wide, warm breath fanning over his bared wrist. Nerves sparked as Victor swept the flat of his tongue up Yuuri's wrist, humming against the skin. Yuuri face flushed hot, feeling dazed as pleasure coursed through his veins causing the pain from his wound to become a mere throb. Victor took his time, laving his wrist and palm with open mouthed kisses and swipes of his tongue, removing any trace of blood in the process. A moan slipped past his lips unbidden when Victor's fang skimmed across his wound.

With a soft hum against the palm of his hand, Victor met Yuuri's inquisitive gaze in a silent request for permission. Swallowing thickly, Yuuri nodded. He gasped as Victor's mouth encompassed his thumb; the throbbing pain vanished, replaced by a pleasurable tingle with the swipe of Victor's tongue. His body trembled as a wave of pleasure washed over him, breaths becoming ragged bursts as he desperately tried to hold onto a thread of his sanity. Victor gripped Yuuri's hip, pulling him close, fingertips digging in hard enough that Yuuri was almost certain he'd find bruises in their place later.

Victor moaned around Yuuri's thumb, the vibrations traveling down Yuuri's spine to the growing heat in his stomach. After what was both an eternity and not nearly long enough, Victor removed Yuuri's thumb from the heat of his mouth, his cheeks flushed. Yuuri barely had time to note the flush on Victor's cheeks before his lips were claimed in a heated kiss. Nips to one another's lips, breaths exchanged like prayers; nothing else mattered as Yuuri desperately clung to the feeling surging through him.

“Mm...Victor,” he groaned, lips pressed against the corner of Victor's mouth, hips canting upwards and against Victor's.

A loud throat clearing startled them, dragging Yuuri out of his daze. He and Victor turned towards the direction of the sound and was greeted by the flash of a camera and a wry smile. Yuuri scrambled to distance himself from Victor, unceremoniously shoving the other man away from him as his face burned.

“What the hell are you doing?!” he hissed.

Phichit stared at him like it was the simplest thing in the world. “Taking a photo.”

“But _why_?”

“For posterity's sake,” said Phichit as he pocketed his phone before holding up his index finger, brows uncharacteristically furrowed. “One, that was hot as hell. Two, what the fuck was that?! Three, _what the fuck_ you guys?! My non-virgin eyes!”

If Yuuri hadn't been certain that one could not, in fact, die from embarrassment he was sure he would have dropped dead right then and there.

“I healed Yuuri's wound,” replied Victor brightly, oblivious to the trembling man discreetly distancing himself. “Vampire saliva has healing properties. Comes in handy when you don't want people knowing that you've fed on them.”

Taking a brief reprieve from his existential crisis, Yuuri glanced at his hand in curiosity. The pain had vanished, as did the gaping wound along the side of his thumb. A small, silver scar ran along the length of his thumb in its place.

“That doesn't mean you two need to go full on porno in our living room! At least warn me first!”

“I can't control what effect my blood lust has on others,” said Victor, shrugging nonchalantly. “Some people don't react at all.”

“Phichit, can we have a minute?” asked Yuuri quietly, interjecting as Phichit stared at Victor in stunned silence. “Alone?”

Phichit's eyes narrowed as he regarded Victor suspiciously. “Yeah, of course. I'll be in my room if you need anything, so just yell.”

“I will,” promised Yuuri.

“The walls are thin, so it won't take much to get my attention,” warned Phichit.

Yuuri nodded in understanding before squeezing Phichit's shoulder, hoping to ease some of his friend's worries with a reassuring smile. As Phichit made his way to his bedroom, a pit formed in his stomach with each beat of his heart. No sooner had the door handle clicked into place did Yuuri find himself swept up into Victor's arms, back pressed flush against Victor's strong chest.

“Yuuri, I'm so glad you're alright,” he whispered, nuzzling against Yuuri's neck.

Whirling around in Victor's embrace, Yuuri shoved Victor away. His breaths were labored as adrenaline surged through him. Coupled with his lingering anger, he punched Victor in the shoulder as hard as he could; it felt like punching a brick wall. “What the fuck was that?!”

Victor blinked in surprise, eyes wide. “I healed your wound.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” retorted Yuuri dryly. “I meant what was all of that...that –“ Yuuri resorted to gesturing vaguely, his words failing him.

“You felt it too?” Victor stepped forward, taking Yuuri's hand in his. His expression softened to something akin to fondness, his eyes shining brightly. “Yuuri, I know you're upset – “

Wrenching his hand out of Victor's grasp, he took a step backwards. “Upset isn't the word for it.”

“Whichever word you want to use, you know I never meant to hurt you.”

Yuuri snorted derisively. “But you did. You lied to me about you, about everything! How do you think I would react when I found out what – who you are?”

Victor's eyes widened and Yuuri could see the hurt flash in his eyes, but he didn't care. He was angry and frustrated and his heart ached every time he looked at Victor's stupidly perfect face in a way that he knew would ruin him.

“After so many years of keeping a secret and lying about who you are, it's hard to finally tell the truth,” said Victor quietly. “But I don't want to lie to you – to myself – anymore, Yuuri.”

Yuuri regarded Victor silently for a few minutes, trying to gather his thoughts. Victor's expression was more open than he had seen before, the corners of his mouth downturned as he finally let the happy facade that he had held in place for who knows how long fade from his features. Against his better judgment, Yuuri was willing to hedge his bets.

“How will I know you're telling me the truth?” he whispered.

Yuuri's heart leapt into his throat when Victor stepped forward, hesitantly, as if testing the waters. When Yuuri didn't turn and bolt, he reached for Yuuri's hand, fingertips brushing against the back of his hand.

“You'll just have to trust me,” he murmured. The air between them was thick, charged with an electricity that thrummed at Yuuri's nerves and did nothing to quiet the anxiety slowly winding its way through his chest. Sensing Yuuri's unease, Victor twined his fingers with Yuuri's before lifting his hand to rest on his chest. “Do you feel that?”

Yuuri's brow furrowed in confusion. “Your heart beat?”

“Vampires aren't supposed to have heart beats unless they find the one they're meant to be with. Soul mates, if you will.”

“Soul mates, huh?”

Hooking a finger under Yuuri's chin, Victor tilted his head up until their gazes met. “My heart beats only for you, Yuuri.”

Biting his lower lip, Yuuri focused on the slow, methodical beat of Victor's heart beneath his fingers. Uncertainty and doubt resurfaced, leaving Yuuri questioning his feelings. He had been convinced that Victor was only using him for a free meal and hadn't he just fed off of him with the ruse of healing his wound? Blood pounded in his ears as he drew his hand away, fingers grazing the soft fabric of Victor's shirt.

“Victor, I need some time to think about this. About us.”

“If this is about me being a vampire –“

“It's not, I mean, it is about that,” interjected Yuuri. “It's just that this is a lot to process. You being a vampire. This whole soul mates thing. It's a lot.”

Victor's shoulders slumped, disappointment flashing across his face briefly before he smiled softly at Yuuri. “I understand. Take all the time you need and I'll be here when you're ready to talk.”

Yuuri silently walked Victor to the door, watching him slip his shoes on and slip his jacket on, tugging at the collar to straighten it. Avoiding his gaze, he opened the door for Victor. He stiffened when Victor leaned down, his lips brushing across his forehead.

“ _Budu zhdat', moyo solnyshko_ ,” he whispered into Yuuri's hair.

Before Yuuri could register what he had said, Victor walked out of the apartment leaving Yuuri with more questions than answers.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translation notes:** budu zhdat', moyo solnyshko = I'll be waiting, my sunshine
> 
> Come hang out with me on [tumblr](http://mayelisa.tumblr.com)!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, this chapter was a struggle. I'll admit it. Several rewrites and some serious editing were involved, so thank you so much for your patience. You can probably tell, but we're getting near the end here. It's sad, but exciting for me because so many fun things are planned for the rest of this and I can't wait to experience it with all of you.
> 
> The club that Yuuri and Phichit go to is loosely based on a night club I went to in Ann Arbor when I turned the ripe old age of 18. I'm not sure if it's still open and I don't remember much other than there was a stage with stripper poles and a lounge where they played nothing but old Madonna music videos. It was fabulous. For those of you who aren't familiar, [this](https://img.buzzfeed.com/buzzfeed-static/static/2015-02/23/12/campaign_images/webdr11/7-fish-bowl-drink-recipes-2-25048-1424713443-10_dblbig.jpg) is the fish bowl drink I referenced. It usually serves 4 – 6 people, depending on how hammered you want to be.
> 
> ALSO, check out the [amazing fanart](https://sinnamonharumaki.tumblr.com/post/164474445960/from-ch-10-of-well-this-sucks-a-vampirevictor) that **[Sinnamonharumaki](https://sinnamonharumaki.tumblr.com)** drew for chapter 10! It's absolutely incredible and you should go give them some love!
> 
> As always, a huge thanks to my amazing beta [@spicenee](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Spicenee/pseuds/Spicenee)! Thank you for being as thorough as possible and really pushing me to make the chapter what it is.

Drumming his fingers against the table, Yuuri stared at his laptop screen. A huff of frustration escaped him as the cursor in his word document blinked back at him, offering no help to him whatsoever. The quiet murmurs of students milling around the library mixed with the tension of looming final exams surrounded him. Furrowing his brows, Yuuri re-read the same sentence for the hundredth time and to his chagrin, found that he was still unable to absorb anything he read.

Of course, it was all Victor's fault. He had annoyingly consumed Yuuri's thoughts night and day since the night he had dropped a bombshell on Yuuri's life.

Yuuri was just about to give up on his final edit of his thesis when someone slid into the seat beside him; he didn't have to look to know it was Phichit. He had been following Yuuri, usually hovering just out of sight, but more often than not joined Yuuri on trips to the library or campus coffee shop.

“Do you have to hover like that?” he asked, not taking his eyes off of the blinking cursor on the screen before him.

“I'm protective, what can I say?” said Phichit, shrugging nonchalantly. “How are you holding up?”

Yuuri sighed, closing his laptop. “I was hoping if I stared at it long enough, my thesis might write itself.”

Phichit gasped dramatically. “So you _are_ a slacker like the rest of us! And here I thought you had your shit together.”

“I've had a lot on my mind,” murmured Yuuri.

Humming, Phichit propped his chin on his hand as he regarded Yuuri curiously. “Have you talked to him yet?”

“No.”

“And why the hell not? The man said you were soul mates. There's no running from that,” said Phichit pointedly.

Taking off his glasses, Yuuri pressed the heel of his palms into his eyes as he bit back a few choice words for his friend. Between the stress of finals, the looming deadline to submit his thesis, and now Victor proclaiming that they're soul mates, Yuuri was at his wits end. To Phichit's credit, he hadn't pestered Yuuri much about the situation; he was busy cramming for finals like the rest of the student population.

Yuuri sighed. “I just... Between finals and trying to finish my thesis, I haven't had much time to think about it.”

“You're lying through your teeth and you know it,” said Phichit plainly. “I don't need to be able to read minds to know that he's all you've been thinking about.”

“You don't know that.”

“ _Please_ ,” scoffed Phichit. “I've known you long enough to know that is exactly what you're doing.”

Yuuri frowned at his best friend before conceding defeat. “You caught me, Phichit. I'm debating quitting school and running away with him to travel the world and spend every penny of the small fortune he's amassed over the past however many hundreds of years.”

“I don't appreciate your sarcasm, Katsuki.”

“I give up!” cried Yuuri, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. Both he and Phichit winced when the librarian very loudly shushed him; Yuuri smiled sheepishly at her as she glared at him from behind a return cart stacked full of books. Turning back to Phichit, he whispered, “What do you want me to say? That I'm madly in love with him and want to explore a relationship with a vampire?”

“That would be a good place to start,” said Phichit quietly. When Yuuri gaped at him in shock, he shot Yuuri a pointed look. “Look, it's been two weeks since you've talked to him. You know I'm not keen on the whole vampire thing, but if he makes you happy I'm willing to try and get past that. He's crazy about you; you should see the way he looks at you. I have photographic evidence if you need a reminder.”

Averting his gaze, Yuuri felt his cheeks heat up at Phichit's comment. He wanted to believe that Phichit was right, that Victor was crazy about him. Crazy enough to reveal himself for who he really was, crazy enough to want to spend the rest of his life with a human.

Rising from his seat, Phichit gathered his belongings, shoving them unceremoniously into his bag. “Come on, let's get out of here. Neither of us are making any progress in studying and I'm starving.”

Relieved that he could put off his final edit for awhile longer, Yuuri joined Phichit as they made their way across campus to the dining hall. While Phichit bemoaned his upcoming exams and how much he loathed his history professor, Yuuri had come to a decision.

He just hoped it was the right one.

 

* * *

“If you check your phone one more time, I'm taking it away from you.”

“I just –“

“That's it!” Yuuri squawked in protest as Phichit snatched his phone out of his hand and placed it on the opposite side of the table. “You've lost the privilege of using your phone for the rest of the evening.”

Huffing, Yuuri glared at Phichit. “You're the worst, did you know that?”

Phichit smiled brightly over the lip of his coffee cup. “I did. Thank you for finally noticing.”

Ignoring his friend, Yuuri took a sip of his latte and glanced out of the window to his right. It had taken him awhile to work up the courage to message Victor, but he was glad he did. However, the relief he felt when Victor had agreed to meet in a public space to talk had been short lived. Now anxiety gnawed away at him as his gut twisted itself into knots; he kept his hands on his coffee cup in an attempt to hide the shaking, but the knowing look Phichit sent him made him realize his efforts were futile.

“He'll come, don't worry.”

“But what if he doesn't?”

“Then he's a bigger idiot than I initially thought,” replied Phichit coolly.

The bell above the door tinkled brightly over the noise of the coffee shop and Yuuri glanced at the doorway for the thousandth time that evening. His heart skipped a beat when a glimmer of silver hair caught his eye. As Victor glanced around the small building, Yuuri briefly entertained the idea of sneaking out through the back door and never looking back. He was startled out of his thoughts when Phichit kicked his shin; his friend narrowed his eyes at him as he watched him silently for a moment before turning towards the doorway.

“Over here Victor!” he called cheerfully, hand waving in the air.

Yuuri shrank down in his seat as Victor's gaze fell on their small table. Guilt had replaced his anxiety, gnawing at him when he noticed the excited gleam in Victor's eye as he made his way through the obstacle course of tables and laptop cords.

“Sorry I'm late,” said Victor, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I still get turned around on campus.”

Phichit waved him off as he chuckled. “I've been here for almost four years and I still get lost.”

Yuuri watched in abject fascination as his best friend and Victor chatted as if nothing had happened over the past few weeks. He let out a sigh of relief when Victor left them to place an order at the counter, leaving him alone with Phichit.

“Do you want me to stay?” asked Phichit quietly.

Glancing up, Yuuri met Phichit's knowing gaze. Biting his lower lip, he spun his cup in his hands as he mulled it over. Part of him wanted Phichit to remain at his side as a security blanket of sorts, but deep down he knew he needed to have a private conversation with Victor and having Phichit there would impede that.

Shaking his head, Yuuri smiled at Phichit. “I think I'll be okay. It's not like he can do anything with us being out in public.”

Phichit hummed as he idly twirled the stir-stick back and forth in his coffee, watching Yuuri through hooded eyes. “You sure?”

“I'm sure.”

“What are you sure about?”

Jumping in his seat, Yuuri fumbled to stop his coffee cup from toppling over. He sighed in relief as he caught it in time, his pulse pounding in his ears as adrenaline pumped through his veins.

“We were just finalizing plans for what we're going to do to celebrate being done with final exams,” replied Phichit happily. “We're thinking about going out for a drink or something, but Yuuri here is demanding that we order mass amounts of take-out.”

“That sounds like quite the night out,” said Victor. Yuuri's skin prickled at the underlying suggestion in Victor's tone and he quickly busied himself with staring at his hands.

“Oh, it's bound to be a night to remember,” said Phichit. Yuuri groaned at the wink his friend sent him. “On that note, I'll leave you two alone. I have some studying I need to get done before tomorrow's exam.”

As Phichit gathered his things and bid them farewell, Yuuri concentrated on keeping his gaze locked on his hands. He bit his lip as Victor slid into the seat across from him; Yuuri could feel Victor's gaze burning into him, but he couldn't bring himself to meet it. Neither of them said anything for a moment, Victor taking a long sip from his cup, gaze boring into the crown of Yuuri's head.

The corners of Victor's mouth turned down as he surveyed Yuuri. He looked the same as always, if perhaps a bit tired, but something was off and Victor couldn't quite put his finger on it. To him, all humans smelled alike though with varying undertones depending on gender. He knew Yuuri had always had a different scent – sweeter, but not unpleasantly so – but at that moment, the typical sweet scent Victor identified as simply _Yuuri_ was fading ever so slightly. Maybe it was his fatigue or the fact that Victor had identified him as his soulmate. Whatever the reason, Victor was sure it was nothing to worry about.

“So...” he began lamely.

Finally, Yuuri dragged his gaze away from his hands and met Victor's. A shiver ran down his spine and he averted his gaze, a blush blooming across his cheeks.

Victor sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. Yuuri flinched when fingertips grazed against his knuckles, the touch light and uncertain. When he didn't pull his hand away, Victor laced their fingers together.

“Yuuri, I've been an idiot. I shouldn't have –“

“No, I'm the idiot,” interjected Yuuri. “You've had to keep so many secrets for so long and I... I'm an idiot.”

Victor chuckled, bringing Yuuri's gaze back to his. “So we're both idiots, then.” He squeezed Yuuri's hand, a soft smile curving his lips. “Do you think we can start over?”

Yuuri nodded, a smile of his own gracing his lips. “That sounds great.”

Taking a deep breath, Victor visibly relaxed in his chair. “Hi, my name is Victor and I'm a vampire.”

“You sound like you're introducing yourself at an AA meeting,” laughed Yuuri.

Victor pouted, squeezing Yuuri's hand with a little more force. “At least I'm trying!”

Stifling his laughter, Yuuri leveled his gaze at Victor. “Hi, my name is Yuuri and I'm in love with a vampire.”

The moment the words left his lips, the realization of what he said sunk in and his face burned in embarrassment. Victor inhaled sharply, his eyes wide as Yuuri buried his face in his hands. “Oh my God, that's not how I meant to tell you.”

“Say it again.”

“You didn't hear anything,” muttered Yuuri.

He squeaked in surprise when Victor grasped both of his hands tightly. Victor's brows were furrowed, determination glimmering in his eyes. “Say it again. Please.”

“I...” Yuuri paused to swallow against his dry throat. His heart pounded mercilessly against his rib cage and he felt the tell-tale signs of anxiety induced nausea causing his stomach to start doing flips. His cheeks burned in embarrassment, but he steeled his resolve and looked Victor squarely in the eyes. “I love you, Victor.”

Victor's face split into a giddy grin, his eyes shining with something indescribable; love, warmth, a hundred year's worth of relief. “You don't know how happy I am to hear that, _moyo solnyshka_.”

Unable to help himself, Yuuri laughed quietly. “It's not how I had planned on telling you.”

“Oh?” Victor leaned in close, eyebrows raised suggestively. “And how were you planning on telling me? In a more intimate setting perhaps?”

“D-don't insinuate things!” hissed Yuuri. He could feel the tips of his ears heating up and he was certain that he probably looked more alike a tomato than anything else.

Smiling, Victor kissed Yuuri's knuckles once again. “I'm only teasing, Yuuri.”

The two sat in silence for a moment, Yuuri wrapping his brain around what had just happened and trying futilely to calm himself while Victor basked in the happiness of finally being accepted for who he was. Finally, Yuuri peeked up at Victor through dark lashes and asked, “So...what do we do now?”

“Well...” Victor tapped a finger against his chin in thought before grinning slyly at Yuuri. “I have a few ideas on how we could celebrate.”

“Victor.”

Laughing at the stern look on Yuuri's face, Victor waved away Yuuri's concerns. “How about we get to know each other? For real this time.”

Yuuri smiled. “I'd like that.”

* * *

If Phichit were being honest with himself, he should have known better. But between the relief of passing all of his classes and the burning desire to cut loose, he had thrown caution to the wind. Yuuri had warned him that taking a cab all the way to Ann Arbor to go to a night club was a stupid idea but he had tagged along anyway.

 “ _Someone needs to keep you out of trouble,”_ he had said, shaking his head affectionately.

Phichit bristled at the thought. _He_ wasn't the one prone to drinking too much too quickly. _He_ wasn't the one who had decided that hopping up on stage to dance on a stripper pole for the whole club to see was a good idea.

But here he was, one and a half fish bowls down and too many tequila shots to remember his own name let alone where he had last seen Yuuri.

His eyes widened as his muddled brain finally sorted out what was wrong.

_He lost Yuuri._

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself.

Sliding out of his chair, he took a moment to regain his balance and prayed that the world would stop spinning around him for just one second so that he could find his friend. Taking a steadying breath, he furrowed his brow in concentration as he set off in search of his friend.

The booming bass coursed through his body, shaking him to his core as he stumbled through the dance floor, bumping into people and hastily apologizing. Squinting towards the far end of the room, he hoped that Yuuri was still on the stage dancing his heart out. Through the haze of bodies and fog from the DJ booth, he could just barely make out the shape of someone dancing on stage, twirling around one of the poles. Pushing his way towards the stage, he idly wondered how they had become separated in the first place. Shaking his head, he pulled his inebriated thoughts back to the task on hand.

Upon reaching the stage, he stumbled, grabbing onto the lip of the wooden stage to steady himself. Looking up, he squinted against the colored spotlights as he watched the men dancing on stage. His stomach dropped when he realized neither of the men were Yuuri. Biting his lip, Phichit wished that he hadn't let Yuuri talk him into that second fish bowl drink. If he hadn't, he might not have lost his best friend to the crowds.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Phichit's stomach flipped as the body heat from the dance floor became overwhelming. Not sure what to do, he pulled out his phone and clumsily tapped out a text message to Yuuri in the hopes that he would respond. Pocketing his phone, he closed his eyes briefly as he tried to ignore the churning of his stomach.

Soon enough, he found himself stumbling through the crowd and into the bathroom. It was mercifully empty except for a few people giggling amongst themselves near the far end of the room. Phichit sighed gratefully as he splashed cool water onto his face, his nausea subsiding as his body cooled. Gripping the edge of the counter, he looked at himself in the mirror; disheveled hair, flushed cheeks and his eyeliner was beginning to smudge around his waterline.

“Get it together, Phichit,” he whispered to his reflection. “Yuuri needs you.”

An audible gasp caught his attention and Phichit glanced up, scared he might have ended up in the wrong restroom. Relief washed over him when he found himself face to face with his best friend.

“Phichit, I found you!” cried Yuuri. He hopped off of the sink counter and brought Phichit into a bone crushing hug. “I thought I had lost you forever,” he said, his words slurring slightly.

“Where were you?! I texted you and you –“ Phichit squinted at Yuuri, appraising his appearance. “Are you wearing eyeliner?”

Yuuri frowned. “You made me wear it.”

“Oh.” Phichit blinked stupidly as his thoughts caught up with him. With an indignant gasp, he jabbed his index finger into Yuuri's chest. “You left me! All alone!”

“You left _me_!” spluttered Yuuri.

“I could have _died_ , Yuuri! How would you feel with that on your conscience?”

Phichit watched with satisfaction as tears welled up in Yuuri's eyes. “I don't want you to die! You're my best friend!”

“You're _my_ best friend,” sniffled Phichit.

With a sob, Yuuri threw his arms around Phichit's shoulders and nearly hung off of him. Phichit sunk to the floor under his weight, throwing his arms around Yuuri. They knelt on the floor, sobbing as they tried consoling each other to no avail.

“I love you, man,” sobbed Phichit. “I love you so much.”

Yuuri hiccuped, squeezing his arms tighter around Phichit. “I love you too! You're my person. I'd do anything for you.”

Burying his face in the crook of Yuuri's shoulder and inhaling deeply, Phichit ignored the sideways glances thrown their way as people exited the rest room, stepping around them carefully.

“You're my person too,” he whispered, smiling into Yuuri's shoulder.

He had found Yuuri and for the moment, that was all that mattered.

* * *

Victor lounged on the plush sofa in his living room, blanket strewn haphazardly across his lap. The apartment was quiet except for the soothing pitter-patter of raindrops against the windows. As he aimlessly browsed through Twitter and Instagram, liking photos here and there, his mind kept wandering back to Yuuri.

He was thrilled that Yuuri had given him a second chance and more than willing to do whatever it took to get Yuuri to trust him again. Admittedly, he hadn't intended to become so involved with Yuuri when he had first set his sights on him, but Yuuri continued to surprise him time and time again. Before he knew it, he was head over heels for the human.

He paused in his scrolling when he stumbled across a selfie Phichit had posted of himself and Yuuri. Phichit was beaming at the camera, Yuuri behind him smiling wearily for the camera. Victor frowned when he noticed the dark circles under Yuuri's eyes that Phichit hadn't quite been able to cover up through careful editing and filter usage. When had he started looking so tired? Victor had noticed that Yuuri seemed a bit off during their talk at the coffee shop, his comebacks not as quick and sharp-witted as they had been when he first met him, but Victor had chalked it up to stress from Yuuri's upcoming exams.

Tapping on Phichit's icon, Victor began sifting through Phichit's feed, his index finger curled over his chin in thought. Yuuri wasn't featured often in Phichit's photos – probably due to Yuuri's apprehension to being on social media – but in the few photos Phichit had managed to post with him featured, Victor was able to tell a significant difference in Yuuri's appearance since he had met him.

Sighing, Victor wondered it he shouldn't find an alternative to feed on so that Yuuri could rest. He knew he had been pushing Yuuri's limits when it came to feeding on him, but Yuuri had never protested or denied him whether he had been glamoured or not. Pushing his feelings of guilt aside, Victor knew he couldn't feed on Yuuri alone for the rest of eternity – no matter how much he wanted to.

Phichit's photo feed refreshed and Victor stared wide-eyed at the photos in disbelief. The majority of them featured Yuuri for a change, his face swathed in subtle shades of reds and purples as he and Phichit snapped selfies on the dance floor of a night club. Victor felt himself tense up as he scrolled down to a series of photos that featured Yuuri on stage, dancing on a pole. A surge of possessiveness wound its way through him as he made his way through the photos; Yuuri's shirt had come undone, exposing his toned abdomen for the rest of the club to see, his bangs sticking to his sweat-covered forehead and a look of pure bliss smoothing out his features.

Objectively, Victor appreciated the photo for the composition and use of lighting. But on a more personal level, he was barely able to control the urge to race out to the club that Phichit had so conveniently tagged them at and cover up Yuuri so that no one else would be able to see him.

Running a hand through his hair, Victor bit his lower lip as he wrestled to control himself. Yuuri was just out having a good time after finishing his exams and there was nothing wrong with that, he rationalized.

He startled out of his thoughtswhen his phone vibrated in his hand, alerting him to a new text message. He fumbled with his phone for a moment, sighing in relief when he managed to avoid dropping it on the floor. Opening his messages, his stomach dropped.

**Where r u Yuuri??**

Recognizing the number as Phichit's, Victor's mouth went dry as he hastily sent a reply message asking what happened. Tapping his foot against the floor impatiently, his stomach only twisted further into knots the longer it took for a response to appear. Not able to handle waiting for a response any longer, Victor sprang up from the couch and dashed out of his apartment, snatching the first jacket he saw off the coat hook.

He made it to Ann Arbor in record time while breaking nearly every traffic law in the process, but it still wasn't soon enough. Screeching to a stop in the nearest parking spot he could find, he scrambled out of the car, not caring how poor of a parking job he had done. Sprinting around the corner, he spotted the nightclub. Jumping the line, he glamoured the bouncer, convincing him to let him into the club. Shoving some money into the bouncer's hands for his trouble, he burst through the doorway amidst grumbling and complaints from the people standing in line.

Let them be mad. The only thing on Victor's mind was finding Yuuri and making sure he was safe.

Standing on the precipice of the dance floor, Victor scanned the room hoping to see Yuuri. Breathing heavily, he swallowed against the dryness of his throat, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he tried to reign in his growing fear. Through the haze of smoke, sweat and liquor, Victor couldn't find Yuuri's scent despite his heightened senses. Just as he was about to make his way down the stairwell and into the dance floor, he heard his name being called.

Turning on his heel, a wave of relief washed over him when he saw Yuuri sitting at the bar behind him, waving his arms eagerly in the air, drink in hand. His mouth split into a smile as he made his way towards him, weaving in between people dancing. Without a moment's hesitation, he threw his arms around Yuuri, pulling him into a tight embrace.

“Oh thank God, you're okay,” he murmured into Yuuri's hair.

Yuuri giggled. “Victor, you found me!”

Inhaling deeply, Victor let Yuuri's scent wash over him; the minty scent of his shampoo, the tang of sweat, and something distinctly spicy. Victor tensed as he realized the sweetness that was unique to Yuuri had become nearly nonexistent. Exhaling slowly, Victor was sure it was just the alcohol Yuuri had ingested; it wasn't uncommon for human scents to become altered depending on their diet and alcohol intake. With the amount that he was certain Yuuri had consumed if the tower of shot glasses behind him was anything to judge by, it wouldn't be unusual.

“I found you,” he said, smiling softly at the man in his arms.

His gaze drifted over Yuuri's shoulder when a groan sounded behind him. Victor had to stifle his laughter at the sight of Phichit doubled over across the bar top, eyes screwed shut. Yuuri's attention swiveled back to his friend, his eyes widening in concern; it was almost as if he had forgotten Phichit was there.

“Phichit, don't die,” called Yuuri. He shook his friend's shoulder, which only drew another groan from his friend. Looking back to Victor with tears in his eyes, he pleaded, “You have to help him! He's my person.”

Stepping up to the bar, Victor rubbed Yuuri's back soothingly. “He's not going to die,” he assured Yuuri. “He's going to be _really_ hungover tomorrow morning though.”

Yuuri relaxed against Victor's side, a sigh of relief escaping him as he realized that Phichit wasn't in mortal danger. Smiling down at Yuuri, Victor brushed his lips across the crown of his head as he easily slipped the tumbler out of Yuuri's loose grip and set it on the bar top behind them. “Let's go home.”

Yuuri nodded in agreement before turning his attention back to Phichit. As he attempted to rouse his friend, Victor pulled his wallet out of his pocket and flagged down the bartender to take care of the tab Yuuri and Phichit had racked up. With that settled, Victor helped a haggard Phichit to his feet, steadying him as he assisted the two men out of the bar.

Phichit hiccuped, his brows drawn together in concentration. “I'm going to throw up,” he mumbled.

Tightening his grip on Phichit's waist, Victor silently prayed that he wouldn't have to get the interior of his car detailed. “How about we get you some fresh air, hmm?”

Phichit hummed noncommittally and leaned heavily against Victor's shoulder as they slowly made their way out of the club. As they walked, Yuuri slipped his hand into Victor's, grinning cheekily up at him as if he had just gotten away with something. The cool night air greeted them as they stumbled out of the building, causing Phichit to shiver and inch closer to Victor's side. Spotting a small bench just outside the doors, Victor led the two men towards it, depositing a swaying Phichit onto the seat.

“I'm going to go get the car,” he said. “Just...stay here.”

Yuuri saluted Victor, his eyes shining brightly with mirth. “Yes sir!”

Phichit groaned, mumbling something incoherent in response.

Hoping this wasn't against his better judgment, Victor hurried down the block to his car. The engine roared to life and when he pulled up to the curb beside where he had left Yuuri and Phichit, he sighed. Phichit had squatted beside the bench, holding onto the arm rest for support as he dry heaved. Yuuri worriedly rubbed his back, murmuring something to his friend.

After ensuring that Phichit wasn't about to become sick all over the leather interior of his car, Victor helped Phichit into the vehicle. Once he was suitably strapped in in the back seat, Yuuri was helped into the passenger seat before sliding into the car himself. The ride home was uneventful, much to Victor's relief. Phichit passed out the moment Victor made it onto the freeway, mumbling to himself in his sleep. Yuuri seemed content to watch the building flash past, his forehead pressed against the cool glass of the window.

Pulling into the parking lot of Yuuri's apartment building, Victor turned to look at him. Yuuri had remained quiet throughout the car ride home, barely shifting from his position except to prop his chin up on his hand as he looked out the window. Victor placed his hand gingerly on Yuuri's knee, startling Yuuri out of his thoughts. Wide brown eyes met his, blinking in surprise.

“We're here.”

Glancing out the window again, Yuuri hummed in thought. “That didn't take long.” A beat passed before he turned back to look at Victor. “Mind helping me get Phichit to bed? I don't know if I can manage the stairs while dragging him behind me on my own.”

Chuckling, Victor shut off the engine. “Of course. I wouldn't want either of you injuring yourselves.”

With some finagling, Victor and Yuuri managed to get a barely conscious Phichit out of the back seat and upright in the parking lot. They each took one of his arms, wrapping it around their shoulders as they half led, half dragged Phichit into the building and up the three flights of stairs to their apartment. Shouldering Phichit's weight, Victor waited patiently for Yuuri to find his keys and unlock the door.

Yuuri led Victor to Phichit's bedroom, flipping the light switch on before disappearing into the bathroom next door without a word. He reappeared as Victor was in the process of removing Phichit's shoes, his form collapsed on top of the comforter. Yuuri placed a glass of water and some aspirin on his night stand, smiling fondly at his friend's sleeping form.

As if he could sense Victor's apprehension, Yuuri whispered, “He'll be okay. It's not the first time this has happened and I'm sure it won't be the last.”

“I have a feeling this wasn't the first time he's tried to keep up with you,” teased Victor as they slipped out of Phichit's room, shutting the door behind him. “I can't say I've ever seen someone able to handle their liquor quite as well as you. Outside of us Russians, of course.”

Yuuri snorted in amusement. “I'm Kyushu born and bred. It kind of comes with the territory.” Yuuri stepped closer, lids hooded as he slipped his fingers into the waistband of Victor's pants. “Now that Phichit's in bed, what do you say to having a little fun?”

Victor swallowed thickly, fighting against his desires. “Yuuri, we can't. You've been drinking and – “

“I feel fine, Victor. Great, actually,” said Yuuri. “I can perform a sobriety test if you want. I'll even recite the alphabet backwards.”

A shiver raced down Victor's spine at the hidden promise in Yuuri's words. “You don't need to do that,” he murmured.

They were nose to nose now, breath mingling in the scant space between them. Yuuri's cheeks were still flushed a pleasant rosy color, his pupils blown wide as he wrapped his hand around Victor's neck, thumb lazily brushing against his jaw line. Yuuri tilted his head to the side, lips capturing the skin just above the hollow of Victor's throat. Victor's eyes drifted shut, a sigh escaping his lips as Yuuri sucked and nipped at the skin before running his tongue over the area to soothe it.

“Mm...Victor,” gasped Yuuri. His fingertips dug into the back of Victor's neck, pulling him closer as he dragged his lips over Victor's pulse point. “I'm so hungry...”

Victor's eyes flew open, his desire quickly extinguished at those words. Pulling Yuuri's hand away from his neck, he gripped his shoulders firmly. He hadn't noticed it before with his desire clouding his judgment, but Yuuri's scent had shifted again from sweet to spicy.

“What are you hungry for?” he asked tentatively, his gaze roving over Yuuri worriedly. Despite the flush to his cheeks and his breathing a bit hastened, he looked exactly the same to Victor.

Yuuri blinked, seeming to snap out of his trance. His brows furrowed as he crossed his arms in thought. “You know, I'm not sure. I've been craving something for awhile, but I haven't been able to figure it out... Ah!” He brightened, grinning from ear to ear as he sorted out his thoughts. “Pizza rolls! I haven't had them in forever, so that must be it!”

Victor stood in the narrow hallway of Yuuri's apartment, jaw slack in bewilderment as Yuuri kissed his cheek and made his way into the kitchen. He watched as Yuuri searched the small freezer before emerging triumphantly with a bag of pizza rolls that had been hidden away.

If Victor had learned anything in the past 400 years, it was to trust his instincts and right now his gut was telling him that something was wrong. He just hoped that for once in his life, his instincts were wrong.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come hang out with me on [tumblr](http://mayelisa.tumblr.com)!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive! I'm so so _so_ sorry for leaving this fic on that cliffhanger for as long as I did. The start of my year was spent working through some personal issues (I'm doing much better now!) and then I got the amazing opportunity to participate in the _Shall We Read literary magazine_ , so I had to put this chapter on the back burner for much longer than I was initially planning to. I'm hoping to get back into a regular schedule as far as writing, but please be patient while I continue to get back into the swing of things.
> 
> As always, a HUGE thank you to my amazing beta [@spicenee](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Spicenee/pseuds/Spicenee) for your endless support and help with this fic.

Inhaling deeply, Yuuri savored the taste of salt-tinged air on his tongue as the sound of seagulls cawing enveloped him. After several years abroad, he had returned to his home in Hasetsu, Japan – if only for a few weeks. He had become increasingly homesick as the summer wore on with no classes or assignments to distract him and Phichit had casually mentioned that he planned on visiting his family in Thailand for a few weeks before the new semester started. Rather than staying in their small apartment on his own, Yuuri had bought a round trip ticket home for the same day Phichit was flying out.

He had been worried about leaving Victor behind in Detroit, but Victor quickly put his nerves at ease.

“I'll be here when you get back,” he had promised.

Yuuri shivered despite the late summer humidity as his mind replayed the way Victor's lips had ghosted across his skin the night prior to his flight. Half a world away, he could still feel the heat of Victor's skin against his, hear the promises whispered into his hair. Pulling his legs into his chest, Yuuri dug his toes into the sand and watched the sky shift from deep blues and blacks to pinks and oranges as the sun rose over the horizon.

He had always had a hard time recovering from jet lag, but this time had been especially rough. Unable to sleep when the rest of the small town was, Yuuri had made it a habit to sneak out of his family's inn and watch the sun rise over the ocean. It gave him some time to clear his head from the events of the past six months and breathe.

He knew he loved Victor. But did Victor love him in return? He said he did, but how could a vampire possibly love a human?

Would Victor leave as soon as he became bored – whether with Yuuri or with Detroit – breaking Yuuri in the process?

Yuuri jumped, heart racing when someone tapped him on the shoulder. Wide eyed, he clutched at his shirt in panic before sighing in relief at the warm brown eyes that peered down at him.

“Yuuko, you really shouldn't sneak up on people like that,” scolded Yuuri, his breath coming out in a huff as he breathed deeply in an attempt to calm his racing heart.

“I called your name but you didn't respond,” pouted Yuuko. “You looked like you were lost in thought.”

Turning his gaze back towards the ocean, Yuuri didn't bother responding as Yuuko plopped down onto the cool sand beside him. Glancing at her out of his peripheral vision, he noted the flush of her cheeks and the beads of sweat collected around her hairline. “Another early run?”

“It's the only time I have to myself before the girls and Takeshi wake up,” she laughed. “If I don't stay in shape, I'll never be able to keep up with them.”

Yuuri smiled. “Those girls certainly are a handful.”

“You have no idea.” Yuuko watched the waves lap at the sand for a moment, her gaze softening. “But I wouldn't trade it for anything.”

Silence passed between them, only the distant calls of seagulls and the ocean waves breaking against the sand interrupting it.

“Your family is worried about you, you know,” said Yuuko quietly. “They told me you aren't eating much and that you stay up all night.”

Yuuri bit his lower lip as he hugged his knees close to his chest. He knew that he was worrying his family, especially with the way his mother was always checking on him, making him herbal tea and snacks whenever he turned around, but he couldn't tell his parents the real reason for his sleepless nights.

“The jet lag has been pretty rough,” he murmured. “It's been a long time since I've been home.”

Yuuko nodded in understanding, but her gaze never left Yuuri. “Are you sure it's just jet lag? It seems like something else is bothering you.”

Yuuri watched as the waves lapped gently at the shore as he considered how to answer Yuuko's question. While his family had readily accepted his reasoning for his insomnia, he knew it would be harder to get Yuuko to believe him. They had been inseparable in their middle school days and even through high school. It wasn't a surprise that she saw through him as easily as she could when he had tried to keep the fact that he was going abroad for university from her.

With a small sigh, he pulled his legs closer to his chest, resting the tip of his nose against his knees. “It's this guy,” he mumbled, the fabric of his sweat pants muffling his voice. “I...I'm falling in love with him, but I'm not sure if it's going to work out between us.”

Yuuko's eyes widened and her mouth formed a small “o” in realization. Her gaze softened when she noted the look of turmoil on Yuuri's face. “Is it because of school?”

Yuuri nodded, his gaze locked on the horizon. “I graduate in a year and I'm already unsure of what to do once I'm done with university, but...” His brows furrowed as he struggled with the sense of anxiety building in his gut. “What should I do?”

Yuuko hummed in thought, her gaze trained on Yuuri. “What do you _want_ to do?”

“I...I'm not sure,” admitted Yuuri. “I always thought I would move back home and help mom and dad with the inn, but now I'm not so sure.”

“I think you should do what you want to do. Mari will be there to help your parents and I'm sure they would support you in whatever you decide.” Yuuko patted Yuuri on the shoulder, smiling softly at him. “You know I'll support you and so will Takeshi.”

Yuuko rose to her feet, brushing sand off of her pants, Yuuri following suit. Hugging Yuuri tightly, Yuuko gave him a reassuring smile before admitting that she had promised Takeshi she would be home nearly a half hour earlier. With a laugh, Yuuri sent her off with a wave. He watched as she jogged down the road and out of sight, the pressure in his chest lessening.

He had plenty of time to decide what he wanted to do. He just hoped that Victor wouldn't make the decision for him.

* * *

A soft knock sounded against Yuuri's bedroom door, drawing his attention away from trying to fit the last of his clothing into his suitcase. Seeing his mother standing outside his bedroom, he smiled softly as he beckoned her inside. Moving is suitcase from his bed, he sat down on the soft bedding and waited for Hiroko to join him.

“Are you all set for your flight tomorrow?” asked Hiroko, her gaze shifting from Yuuri's overstuffed bags to his face, worry clouding her eyes.

“Mm...I think so,” mused Yuuri. “I'll double check to make sure I'm not forgetting anything, don't worry.”

A moment of silence passed between them before Hiroko sighed. “I can't help but worry about you Yuuri.” When Yuuri didn't respond, she continued. “Something seems to be tormenting you and I hate to see you like that.”

“Mom...” Yuuri reached over for Hiroko's hand, squeezing gently. “I'm fine, I promise. You don't need to worry about me.”

Hiroko squeezed Yuuri's hand in return. “It's a mother's job to worry about her children.”

Yuuri chuckled. “I suppose you're right. But mom, I –“

“Yuuri.” Releasing his hand, Hiroko cupped Yuuri's cheeks in her hands as she smiled warmly at him. “If you're worried about the inn, don't be. Mari is here to help your father and I, so do whatever makes you happy. We all support you no matter what you decide.”

Blinking in confusion, Yuuri could do nothing but stare at his mom for a moment in stunned silence. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes as he cupped her hand in his, a choked laugh bubbling out of his chest.

“Thanks mom.”

* * *

Glancing around, Yuuri scanned the throng of people waiting at the baggage claim while he waited for his suitcase to emerge. Hiking his backpack further up on his shoulder, he tried to ignore the pit in his stomach. He had returned to Detroit, the feelings of homesickness already settling in as he realized he wouldn't be able to see his family outside Skype sessions until the next time he returned home.

“Take care of yourself Yuuri,” his mother had whispered to him as they shared a final hug before Mari drove him to the airport. The sight of her tearful smile as she waved goodbye had tugged at his heart strings and for a brief moment, he had contemplated staying.

Jolted out of his thoughts at the sight of his suitcase, Yuuri hurriedly snatched the worn luggage from the conveyor belt. Checking that he had everything, Yuuri gripped the handle of his luggage and followed the signs to the passenger pick up area. Phichit had arrived back in Detroit several days before Yuuri and had assured him he would meet him at the airport.

As he made his way through the crowds, Yuuri's attention was drawn to his left when someone called his name. He squinted against the bright sunlight before breaking out into a wide grin. There was Phichit, arms waving above his head excitedly as he jumped up and down to get his attention. Chuckling at some of the strange looks his friend was having cast his way by passersby, Yuuri weaved his way in between people to his best friend.

Once he was at Phichit's side, he dropped his luggage on the ground and embraced him tightly. As much as he had missed his family and how happy he had been to see them after so long abroad, Yuuri was ecstatic to see Phichit again. Things just weren't the same without his bright, exuberant demeanor and bubbling laughter.

“I see you survived your flight,” said Phichit as he scooped Yuuri's backpack off of the ground, slinging it over his shoulder.

Yuuri groaned. “Barely. Someone's toddler wouldn't stop crying and delayed our flight. I almost missed my connection in Seoul.”

Shaking his head, Phichit clucked his tongue. “Now, now Yuuri. You can't be mad at the poor baby. I doubt they wanted to be on that flight any more than you did.”

“True,” sighed Yuuri. He followed Phichit through the throng of people towards the taxi that waited for them at the curb. “But they nearly threw the parents off the flight until someone bribed them with a toy meant for their own kid.”

“Ouch.”

Shaking his head, Yuuri deposited his suitcase in the trunk of the taxi before climbing into the back seat while Phichit gave the driver their address. Phichit settled in beside him, pulling out his phone to thumb through his social media accounts. Yuuri rested his head against Phichit's shoulder, sighing at the familiarity of his friend's presence.

“So how was your trip?” asked Phichit, his gaze never straying from his phone.

“It was good. Mom, dad and Mari all say hi by the way.” Yuuri smiled at the flush that crossed Phichit's cheeks. “It was nice seeing everyone again. How was yours?”

Yuuri happily listened to Phichit's stories from home, ranging from visiting the ice skating rink he used to frequent with his family as a small child to his grandmother's scoldings for not eating enough and drinking too much coffee. When prompted, Yuuri told Phichit about his trip and how Mari had pressured him for an answer as to what he was planning on doing after he graduated university away from the prying ears of their parents.

“Why does Mari need to know? It's not her decision,” interjected Phichit, irritation lacing his voice.

“Mom and dad are hoping I come home to help with the inn once I graduate,” explained Yuuri. He tried to ignore the pit in his stomach at the thought of leaving Phichit behind. “But I haven't decided what I want to do yet.”

Phichit chewed on his lower lip, brows furrowed in concern. “Haven't you been wanting to do some research on the history of language or something like that?”

“Mm...that was a possibility.” Yuuri sighed and slumped against the backseat of the taxi. “I don't know what I want to do with my life anymore.”

“Sounds like you're having an existential crisis if you ask me,” murmured Phichit.

Groaning, Yuuri covered his face with his forearm as he sank further down in his seat. Phichit patted him on the shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. The remainder of the ride to campus was silent, Yuuri watching the buildings fly by while Phichit checked his social media notifications. As the taxi pulled into the parking lot beside their apartment building, Phichit waved away Yuuri's offer to help pay for the ride before hopping out to help Yuuri with his luggage.

After successfully dragging his suitcase up the stairs to their apartment, Yuuri stifled a yawn while Phichit jiggled their lock just-so in order to unlock it. Swinging the door open, Phichit deposited Yuuri's backpack onto the floor beside the door before turning back to face Yuuri.

“I think we need to go on a coffee run.”

“Phichit, we really don't have to,” protested Yuuri. Phichit raised an eyebrow as Yuuri tried in vain to stifle another yawn. “Alright, fine. Maybe some coffee would help.”

With a wide grin, Phichit spun Yuuri around and led him down the stairwell and outside their apartment building. Yuuri followed Phichit as he absentmindedly scratched an itch on his neck. Phichit paused in his retelling of some gossip he had heard while picking up his text books to squint at Yuuri's neck.

“Yuuri, did you always have that rash on your neck?” he asked.

Yuuri paused in his scratching, blinking in confusion. “What rash?”

Phichit rolled his eyes. “The rash you're scratching at right now.”

Brows furrowed, Yuuri ran his fingertips along he area he had just been scratching and sure enough, there were small raised bumps along his jawline and running down the side of his neck. “I don't remember having a rash there before...” He glanced up at the sky, squinting against the bright sunlight. “It's a lot brighter here than it was back home though.”

“Do you think it's a sun allergy?” inquired Phichit.

Yuuri ignored the suspicious look on Phichit's face and shrugged. “Who knows? I spent a lot of the time I was home helping mom and dad with the inn, so I didn't get outside much during the day.”

Phichit hummed in thought before dismissing whatever he was mulling over. “Well, let's get you inside so you don't turn into a giant rash with arms.”

Choosing to ignore Phichit's comment, Yuuri pushed open the door of the coffee shop and sighed in delight as the cool air brushed across his face. After ordering his coffee, Yuuri checked his phone while he waited for the baristas to call his name. Opening his text messages, he quickly typed out a short message to Victor informing him that he had arrived home safely and in one piece. He chuckled when Victor responded almost immediately, the message full of joyful emojis.

Coffee in hand, Yuuri and Phichit made their way back towards their apartment just as the sun was beginning to set. As they rounded the corner to take the shortcut through a small alleyway, Yuuri bumped into someone making their way through the alley. He stumbled backwards and just nearly avoided dropping his coffee as he regained his balance.

“Watch where the hell you're going!” snapped the figure before him.

“S-sorry, I wasn't paying attention,” said Yuuri, eyes wide.

The man before him glowered at him from beneath a pair of sunglasses, his messy blond hair falling in his eyes. Yuuri's gaze was drawn in by the sheer amount of leopard print clothing he was dressed in, idly wondering if he had modeled himself after the delinquents in Japan. He nearly jumped out of his skin when another man appeared behind him, clad in leather with sharp eyes that seemed to pierce Yuuri's soul.

The blond man continued to seethe at Yuuri, only ceasing his tirade when the man behind him placed a hand on his shoulder without a word. Clucking his tongue, the blond pulled his sunglasses off as he gestured angrily at Yuuri and Phichit.

“I'll let you off this once but watch yourselves,” he warned, green eyes flashing dangerously. Slipping his sunglasses back on, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Come on Beka, let's get out of here.”

As the two men slipped away, Yuuri stood rooted to the spot as his heart stuttered to find a steady rhythm again. He had seen those bright green eyes somewhere before but he couldn't put his finger on where.

“Yuuri, are you okay?”

Yuuri shook himself out of his thoughts and focused on Phichit's concerned expression. “Y-yeah, I'm okay.”

Phichit frowned as he glanced over his shoulder in the direction the two men had sauntered off. “Who the hell were those guys?”

“I don't know,” whispered Yuuri. But if the shiver that raced down his spine was any indication of things to come, he had a feeling this wouldn't be their only run in with the two men.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't seem to get the link to the lovely fanart **Sinnamonharumaki** drew for chapter 10, so please go check them out on tumblr and twitter! You won't be disappointed, I promise!
> 
> Come hang out with me on [tumblr](https://mayelisa.tumblr.com)!


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